


gonna win this time (change my luck)

by carissima



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Heist, Heist AU, M/M, fail thieves, one direction are the worst thieves ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2956268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They all turn to look at Liam. Being the focus of everyone’s attention is a lot, Liam realises as he swallows thickly. He’d be stupid to do it. He doesn’t need to. He’s got money in the bank and he owns his own relatively successful business. If he gets caught, all of that disappears.</i><br/> <br/><i>He catches Niall’s eager look. Zayn’s warm stare. Harry’s focused gaze. He feels Louis’ hand in his, heavy and interwoven.</i><br/> <br/><i>"I’m in," he finds himself saying hoarsely.</i></p><p>or the worst heist fic ever conjured up based on one direction’s fail!thieves perfume ad</p>
            </blockquote>





	gonna win this time (change my luck)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oliviacirce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviacirce/gifts).



> written for oliviacirce, who prompted an ot5 fic based on the perfume ad where they're all fail!thieves. there was a beautifully long list of things you like in fic, i hope this hits at least a couple of them!
> 
> just as a reminder, this is an ot5 friendship fic so please heed the pairings and all other relationships are co-dependent boys who love each other a lot.
> 
> my undying love and gratitude to [héla](http://onesieliam.tumblr.com/) and [bee](http://henleyliam.tumblr.com/) for the beta and [nan](http://estrella30.tumblr.com/) for organising this whole thing and in general being wonderful.

Niall huffs out a wheezy laugh before he slaps his hand over his mouth to cover the noise. His eyes roam the warehouse, torn somewhere between amusement, awe and vague arousal. There are boxes everywhere from floor to ceiling on basic racking and at first glance it seems like a normal enough everyday warehouse. But Niall's got zero interest in breaking into normal warehouses. This one is special. He'd stumbled across it thanks to his penchant for strolling into whatever adult shop he passes in town to pick out the most outrageous thing he can find on the shelves and send it to Bressie. He'd overheard the shop assistants talking about their warehouse logistics issues and the idea of breaking into a porno warehouse had been too tempting for Niall to pass up without at least a cursory glance, which is why he's currently crouched behind a shelving unit, pickpocketing tools slung in his pocket for the surprisingly weak locks on the door and staring at the biggest range of blow up dolls he's ever seen in his life.

Bressie would love the doll that Niall thinks is meant to be Rihanna but mostly looks like a surprised dominatrix. Bressie would blush and stammer, looking adorably panicked and try and fob the doll off to Eoghan, who would _definitely_ love it and probably sit her at his kitchen table as a permanent fixture. Then again, Eoghan has no shame so where's the fun in sending it straight to him?

The doll is just an added bonus though because as hilarious as Niall finds breaking into an adult sex store warehouse, he's actually here for the money he knows is stashed in a safe in the office at the opposite end of the building, and that's where he's heading. He takes one step away from his hiding place before a hand comes down on his shoulder, heavy and firm and he yelps loudly.

 _Shit_ , he thinks before he's being hauled outside to a waiting police car. _Bressie's gonna kill him_.

At the station, Niall relies on every ounce of charm he's ever been blessed with, by birth or experience, to convince the nice policeman that he was simply in the warehouse because he'd been curious and maybe he was going to send a few kinky items to his boyfriend back home as a joke.

Admittedly, the pickpocket tools that they'd emptied from his pockets had been a slight challenge but Niall had sworn they were an emergency solution for when his previously-mentioned kinky boyfriend handcuffed him and maybe they'd lost the key one too many times. Hence the lock picks.

Somehow, by the grace of the Blarney Stone and all Niall's ill-gotten charm and baby-faced lies, he'd been let out with a caution and what he's certain will be a longstanding reputation for being a kinky bastard. It's a fair cop, he reckons as he shoves his belongings back into his pockets and strolls out of the station with a jaunty grin.

It's not until he gets home that he finds a slip of paper carefully tucked inside his wallet. Intrigued, he puts the kettle on in his little kitchen and rummages around for a tea bag and the last dregs of milk while the paper lies unread on his scarred, ancient kitchen table.

Niall doesn't pick the paper up until he's sat with his feet up on another chair and tea in hand.

_You spin a good yarn, mate. Maybe you want to try and put those lock-picking skills to better use though. If you're curious and fancy a bit of teamwork with massive returns, meet me at the old Toyota warehouse on Sunday, 12pm._

Niall blinks a few times as he re-reads the message before he lets out a laugh. He's being headhunted. On the night he winds up at the police station having been caught on a job. He might be a terrible pickpocket - although in fairness this is the first time he's been caught in three years - but whoever it is that's slipped the note into his pocket is an even worse criminal mastermind.

God, he's totally in.

It's much later, when he's got Bressie on Skype and he's telling him about his adventures in the porn warehouse, that he realises whoever contacted him managed to somehow pickpocket his wallet and slip it back either without Niall noticing or when it was under supposed lock and key at the police station.

Either way, he is so, so _in_.

*

Every so often, Zayn disappears from the world. He can be holed up in his apartment for days, locked in his room only to emerge to find his phone full of missed calls from home and weary voicemails from his long-suffering mum asking him to call when he can. He always feels guilty but then it happens all over again. Being able to deposit a few thousand pounds into his mum's bank account helps with the guilt though. She's given up trying to convince him to stop doing it, and Zayn likes to think of it as progress.

This time though he's pulled off what might be the biggest coup of his hacking career. Zayn yawns as he stands up from where he's been hunched over his laptop for the past four days; only stopping to stuff almost-stale toast in his mouth and he's pretty sure he ordered pizza at some point. He'd slept right there on the chair too, dozing mostly at odd hours while he strategised and moved the chess pieces around to exactly where he wanted them to be.

It's been four days since he'd gotten the email notifying him that a huge multi-national corporation had been involved in releasing toxins into the environment. He'd spent the first day sneaking around firewalls and encrypted sites and top secret files to ascertain the validity of the accusation. Then he took another day to calm himself down and indulge in fantasies of creating a clusterfuck that will bring down the entire company. Except he'd never be able to go through with it because thousands of innocent people would lose their jobs and Zayn couldn't ever be responsible for that. Then he'd settled down and spent the past two days slowly inching past every block to finally hack into their funds.

This time he's stolen more money than he ever has before. He'd donated half of it to a dozen environmental charities in the local areas where the toxins had been released. He'd transferred a few thousand into his mum's account and another few into his sisters' accounts as an early Christmas present. Three months early, in fact. Zayn had also given himself a healthy amount to tide him over for the next few months and to put some away in his savings accounts so that one day he can retire from a life of crime and maybe go straight.

If he ever _can_ go straight, he reminds himself with a wolfish grin just as his belly rumbles embarrassingly loudly.

He's just about to head for the kitchen and mourn the lack of food in his cupboards when a slip of paper on the floor catches his eye. His eyes flicker up, scouring the room because he knows he didn't leave that paper there. He's meticulous to a fault with his office, even if everything else in his apartment is a mess and since he didn't leave the paper there, that means someone's been in his house.

Without moving towards the rogue slip of paper, he grabs his phone and sends a text to the only other person who has a key to his place. Perrie texts back within five minutes, while Zayn keeps his eyes on the paper and doesn't move a muscle, to confirm that she's still out of town and asking if he's alright.

Zayn types a quick response to Perrie assuring her that he's fine before he shoves his phone back into his pocket. He eyeballs the paper while he gets to his feet and moves slowly until he can bend down and pick up the piece of paper. Unfolding it, he just stares at the handwritten words, reading the scrawled words again and again until they filter through to his sleep-deprived brain.

_Wow, impressive stuff mate. Still pretty small-time though. If you fancy hitting the motherlode, come meet me at the old Toyota warehouse on Sunday. 12pm._

He's torn between being amused at the meeting place being an old, wrecked warehouse that hasn't been used in years and all the ridiculous clichés about it being a clandestine meeting place; and yet impressed because he's got some pretty heavy-duty locks on his apartment for obvious reasons and somehow, someone's been clever enough to bypass them and sneak in without him noticing.

Halfway through devouring his bowl of cereal, he decides he's going to go to the meeting. His natural curiosity is outweighing his instinct to stay at home tucked up in bed, foolish though it might be. And besides, if there's a possibility that he can speed up the whole 'going straight' hypothesis he's been promising himself, he should at least check it out.

If he can drag himself out of bed, that is.

Maybe he'll set two alarms.

*

"You should definitely check the place out," Harry says with complete sincerity. He's leaning over the table, his grin wide and earnest. "It's very homey."

"That sounds perfect," the girl says, romance and stars in her eyes, woven there by Harry's promises of warm hearths and home-cooking. "Doesn't it babe?"

"Yeah." Her boyfriend doesn't sound convinced but Harry smiles lazily anyway. He's already stolen most of the guy's money from his wallet and her watch is safely in his pocket as he stands up. "Sounds perfect."

"Well, I hope you have a nice stay," Harry tells them sincerely. He flashes them another smile before wandering off into the crowds, his hands shoved into his pockets where he's also acquired a handful of notes from two other wallets and three iPhones.

He uses the cash to grab lunch in a tiny cafe near the flat he's renting, taking his time as he stares out of the window and watches the world go past. It's a decent haul today, he reminds himself as he idly watches an adorable family pass by; two boys swinging off their parents' arms before he sighs into his coffee cup. And maybe tomorrow he'll steal from the right pocket and win the pickpocket lottery.

Except he's been telling himself the same thing for three years and he's never nabbed more than a few hundred pounds at a time. He's still stuck in his little rented apartment. Alone. He's got a million mates, ones he's picked up as easily as he plucks wallets from unsuspecting punters, but he can't remember the last time he met someone who could be important. Someone who might stick around.

Harry pushes his plate away, his appetite suddenly lost as he digs around for change. He draws out a few notes and places them on the table before he sees the loose piece of paper caught between them. Frowning, he pulls it clear and opens up the note, his nose wrinkling as he tries to read the spidery scrawl.

_Stop being a lazy fucker and put those clever hands of yours to good use. Come to the old Toyota warehouse on Sunday at 12pm if you want to get those sticky fingers on something a little more exquisite._

A quiet laugh bubbles out of him at the cleverly-worded note. He gets to his feet and places the paper very carefully in his pocket for safekeeping before he waves to the girl behind the counter, hiding his smile as she blushes prettily at him and waves back, and he heads out of the cafe, turning right towards his flat.

Maybe some company, a challenge and a little intrigue is just what he needs.

*

Liam throws his fists into the punch bag, finding a fluid rhythm that eases the ache in his muscles as he works out his kinks. He throws punch after punch until he's breathing heavily and sweat drips through his vest, dampening the cotton so that the material sticks to him like a second skin.

He uses his teeth to rip his gloves off and lets them fall to the floor, swiping at his forehead to wipe away the thin film of sweat over his brow. Liam rolls his shoulders back and grimaces as his muscles scream in protest.

"Looking good there Payno."

Liam spins around, eyes narrowing as they land on the man in the doorway to his gym. His gym, he reminds himself fiercely. _He_ belongs here. Louis Tomlinson does _not_.

"Hello," Liam says stiffly. "How's things, Louis?"

"Pretty good," Louis says, his lips curving up into the quick, pointed smile Liam remembers. Always on edge, Liam thinks as he grabs a water bottle and takes a much needed gulp. Louis Tomlinson is made up of sharp edges and sharper words. "I've got a proposition for you."

Liam's eyebrows shoot up at that. "I'm retired," he says shortly. "No longer in the business. I'm just the owner of this place now. Above board and everything."

"No, yeah I heard that," Louis says. He hasn't moved from where he's leaning against the doorframe to Liam's gym, his bare ankles crossed and his hands in his pockets. It's been over a year since he last saw Louis, Liam figures. A year since his last job. A year of living straight. "It was a bit of a surprise, mate."

"Don't call me that," Liam says sharply. "We're not mates."

Liam sees Louis watching him and he has to physically stop himself from bristling under the intensity. "No, I guess we weren't," Louis says, sounding a little surprised. "We could have been though. You always were my favourite, Payno."

A harsh, unfamiliar laugh dies in Liam's throat as he shakes his head. "No I wasn't," he tells Louis, feeling a bit like he's talking to a small child who refuses to listen. "You couldn't stand me. You yelled at me in the middle of a job!"

"Well, in all fairness I wasn't expecting to find you stealing the briefcase I'd come to steal myself," Louis says affably. His sharp grin flashes bright. "You were good at it, Payno. Bet you're still good at it."

"I was a terrible thief," Liam mutters, wrapping his arms defensively around himself. His skin feels horribly cold all of a sudden and he wishes there was someone, anyone else in the gym. But it's 6am on a Saturday morning, which is always the quietest time in the gym and it's precisely why Liam likes to come in early and do a workout. "You _told_ me I was a terrible thief. I felt guilty every time I stole something. I was the worst thief in the history of all thieves."

"Sometimes I say stupid things," is all Louis gives as an answer, and it's no answer at all. "Maybe I just couldn't figure out why this talented guy hated what he was so good at. A waste, I reckon. A bloody waste."

Liam blinks at him. "You really thought I was good?" he asks eventually when the silence expands between them and Louis makes no attempt to fill it.

Louis rolls his eyes. "One of the best," Louis says flatly. He stands up, stretching out his arms carefully. "And you really were my favourite. I never minded losing out to you. You shouldn't waste your talents, Liam. You shouldn't hide yourself in this place."

Louis disappears through the door, leaving Liam feeling frustrated and confused. Really confused. And it's not like being confused by Louis is all that uncommon for Liam. It's his default setting around Louis and always has been. He and Louis aren't mates. Not even acquaintances really, he muses as he picks up his discarded gloves and heads slowly for the showers. And he's been out of the business for a year. So what exactly was the purpose of Louis' visit?

There must have been a purpose, Liam decides 10 minutes later when he's out of the shower and getting dressed. Louis always has a reason for everything he does.

He doesn't stop thinking about the unexpected visit. Not when members start to arrive and he starts his personal training sessions. Not when he takes a break and spends the entire time on his phone, looking at recent break-ins and wondering which ones Louis was responsible for.

"Hey boss?" one of his employees, a young lad working weekends to pay his way through college, pops his head into Liam's office and hands him a card. "Post just came."

It's a postcard, Liam realises in surprise. An honest to God postcard with a picture of a diamond on the front. He flips it over, trying to ignore the uneasy roil in his belly.

Wish you were here, Payno. You shouldn't let those talents of yours go to waste. I need help with a job. I need your help. Old Toyota warehouse. Tomorrow. 12pm. Louis

There's a smiley face over the U in Louis' name. Liam can't stop staring at it.

Maybe he'll go. Maybe he'll turn up and listen to what Louis wants to say. He's got no desire at all to go back to that life, but Louis' asking for his help, which means it must be a big job and whatever the prize is, Louis wants it enough to ask for Liam's help.

It's enough to pique his curiosity, which was probably Louis' plan all along, Liam realises as he lets out a wry chuckle. Louis Tomlinson: Criminal mastermind.

*

Liam pulls up to the abandoned warehouse in his black Range Rover. The car park is empty, litter collecting in huge piles across several spaces like no one's been here in a few months at least and Liam has to hand it to Louis. He's chosen the location well.

Liam shoves his snapback on, pulling it low over his eyes out of habit more than necessity since he hasn't broken any laws in months, but old habits die hard. He climbs out of his car and strides across the empty lot, his gloved hand pushing gently against the door. He's unsurprised when it gives and swings open easily.

The warehouse is completely empty, which is unsurprising since it's been abandoned for longer than Liam can remember. Dust flies up when he walks slowly across the building and strips his gloves off, so he guesses kids don't even use it anymore like they used to when he was in school. He only went to one party himself, and that was because Andy had all but dragged him there. Liam had tried to enjoy the party but he hadn't known anyone except Andy and Jordan, and they'd drifted away after the first hour or so.

He'd gone home not long after, walking the entire five miles home in the middle of the night and talking to Dani on the phone. She'd been away at university at the time and it hadn't been long after that they'd split up and Liam had learnt what heartbreak really was. The distance and Dani meeting new, interesting people had forced them into stilted, distant conversations that ate away at his insecurities before Liam had bitten the proverbial bullet and ended things while they were still fond of each other.

Sighing, Liam kicks at the dust and tries to fight back old feelings of failure.

The creak of the door has him spinning around to find a tall boy with long, curly hair and a curious smile staring at him.

"Hi," the boy says brightly. "Are you my stalker then?"

Liam blinks at the slowly drawled words before he's taking a step forward, frowning as he pauses mid-stride. "No," he says, shaking his head. "Did Louis contact you too then?"

"Louis," the boy repeats like he's testing the name out. "Louis. No, I don't know any Louis'. I just got a note asking me to meet here at noon."

Liam has no idea what's going on but Louis seems to have bigger plans than Liam had first thought.

"I'm Liam," he says, blurting his name out before he can stop himself. He sees the boys eyes widen in surprise and he feels his heart sink. "Crap. I probably shouldn't have said that, right?"

"Harry," the boy says, moving forward with his hand outstretched and a bright grin lighting up his face. Liam stares at the dimples flashing at him before he realises that Harry has stopped in front of him, his hand still outstretched between them.

Liam's hand slides into Harry's slightly bigger one. He finds himself smiling at the boy and his shoulders relax unconsciously.

"Nice to meet you, Liam," Harry murmurs. His eyes flicker down Liam's body and Liam flushes at the attention, briefly wondering if maybe he should have dressed up more than the joggers and hoodie he'd thrown on after opening up the gym this morning and putting a few clients through their paces. When Harry finally looks up though, his smile has disappeared, replaced by a look that is, quite frankly, _hungry_.

Liam's mouth goes dry.

"Alright lads?"

Harry turns towards the newcomer, while Liam's slower to move. His whole body feeling like it's moving through molasses. When he does manage to look past Harry though, he sees a boy with bleached blonde hair and an infectious grin. He's casually dressed in loose jeans and a plaid shirt, looking more like a student than a thief. Then again, Liam supposes, he probably doesn't look much like a criminal either, even though he's broken into more safes than he can probably count and Harry, dressed in his tattered skinny dark jeans and a loose shirt unbuttoned almost to his navel, looks more like a sweet, baby-faced fallen angel than a thief.

"Which one of you sent the note then?" the lad asks as he moves forward, his hand outstretched. "Niall. Nice to meet you both."

Harry introduces both of them and Liam flushes as Niall's appraising glance flicks between them.

"Louis sent the note," Liam says quickly. Clearing his throat, he moves slightly away from Harry and nibbles nervously on his bottom lip. "Harry and I just uh, met."

"Oh," Niall says slowly. "I thought maybe you two were like partners or something."

"Nope," Harry says brightly. "At least not yet."

"You're a long way from home then," Liam blurts out, feeling his cheeks heat as the two boys turn towards him, Niall looking amused and Harry staring at Liam's lips. Liam's tongue flicks out unconsciously to wet them and Harry grins, his gaze finally lifting to meet Liam's.

"Yeah, I guess this is home though these days," Niall says, sounding a bit miserable. "I'm from Mullingar, do you know it?"

Liam really wants to say yes simply because Niall looks so hopeful, but he shakes his head with an apologetic look because he's awful at lying.

"Yeah, most people haven't," Niall says with a long-suffering sigh. "You should go though, if you're ever in Ireland. Best place in the world."

"Um." Harry cuts through the conversation to motion his head towards the door where a lad with dark hair and the most beautiful face Liam's ever seen is standing.

"Hi," the lad mumbles. His eyes are moving slowly over the three of them in their makeshift huddle and he lingers over each of their faces before he seemingly nods to himself and wanders closer. "Creepy stalker note?"

"We all got one, apparently," Niall tells him as he offers his hand again. "Niall. Harry, Liam."

"Zayn," the boy says with an easy shrug as he shakes all their hands before shoving his own into his jacket pockets. He's wearing a leather jacket that Liam's totally coveting, as well as black skinny jeans, biker boots and a slouched beanie, and Liam thinks it's entirely possible that Zayn's just walked off a runway and into this dusty, empty warehouse. "Bit cliché all this, I reckon."

"Louis has a sense of the dramatic," Liam says without thinking before he flushes as Zayn lifts an eyebrow and stares at him. "I'm sure he'll be here soon. He's always late."

"It's true, I am," Louis says as he steps through the door. He's wearing joggers and a hoodie, unintentionally mirroring Liam's own look as he walks over to their little group and claps a hand down on Liam's shoulder. Liam fights the urge to flinch or move away. "Only reason you used to beat me, Payno."

"You two know each other," Harry says slowly. He's staring at Louis' fingers curling over Liam's shoulder and frowning. "You must be Louis."

"Louis Tomlinson," Louis says cheerfully, offering Harry his hand. He shakes everyone's hand and finally moves away from Liam, to Liam's relief and he rolls his shoulders as inconspicuously as he can manage. "Nemesis of Payno here. Or maybe he's mine, actually."

"We met a few times on jobs," Liam says reluctantly.

"Before Liam here retired and left the field wide open for a better-looking model to replace him," Louis says cheerfully before he stops next to Niall and he schools his face into a more serious expression. "So thanks for coming, everyone. And sorry for the creepy stalker notes. And the clichéd empty warehouse, Zayn."

Zayn's lips curve into a hint of a smile and everyone just _stares_ at him.

"Fuck me you're pretty," Niall breathes before he shakes his head and lets out a loud cackle. "Sorry mate."

"No worries," Zayn says, looking bemused. His voice has changed though; softening into a lower register. "So Louis, what're we doing here then? What's this big job you talked about in your note?"

"Oh we'll get to that," Louis says dismissively with the wave of a hand before it settles on Niall's hip, Louis' arm draped around his back. Niall, to Liam's surprise, just shifts his weight and leans into Louis companionably. "So I've been following you all for a while now. Big fan, by the way."

"Yeah, that's definitely creepy," Niall says. His hand lifts and settles on Louis' shoulder. "But thanks?"

"Niall here is a brilliant thief, but he lacks direction," Louis recites like he's reading from a report. "Recently arrested for breaking into a porn warehouse."

Niall grins proudly. "I was only caught because the owner's son had broken into his dad's warehouse. I'd scoped that building out for weeks and that was the night he decided to get kinky as hell with a girl he was trying to fuck."

"And Niall here is charming enough to only have a caution to his name," Louis says. His grip on Niall's hip tightens slightly and Niall's smile widens. "Even if he is a filthy bastard."

"You broke into a porn warehouse?" Harry says, sounding awed. "For money or goods?"

"Both," Niall admits with a laugh that Liam can only describe as filthy. Looking around, he can see that Zayn's reluctantly impressed and amused, and Harry's staring at Niall much the same way he'd been staring at Liam. Perhaps it's just his default expression, Liam thinks, confused by the shiver of disappointment that snakes through him at the thought.

Louis pats Niall on the head softly before he moves away, heading for Zayn. Harry slips into Niall's side and they fold into each other easily. It's fascinating to watch, as Harry's all long limbs and Niall's a bit limpet-like. Harry's whispering something in Niall's ear that's making Niall blush bright red and laugh loudly.

Liam's _not_ jealous.

"And Zayn is a hacker," Louis announces loudly, drawing their attention to where he's standing with his arm slung over Zayn's shoulders. Instead of shrugging Louis off, as Liam's half-expecting, Zayn somehow makes himself a bit smaller to make it easier for Louis, who's just that little bit shorter than Zayn, to pull him closer. "A fucking amazing one, actually. Incredible with electronics."

"I'm alright," Zayn admits. "And you're totally a stalker. Still can't figure out how you broke into my house without my alarms going off."

Louis just grins at him. The corners of Zayn's lips lift into a soft, answering smirk and his hand reaches up to ruffle Louis' artfully messy hair, making Louis laugh as he moves away.

"Now Harry," Louis says, reaching out for Harry's hand and drawing him into Louis' side, pulling him away from Niall and wrapping his arm around Harry's waist. "Harry here is the laziest, most charming pickpocket you'll ever meet."

"Hey," Niall protests weakly, clearly offended. Liam finds himself putting a hand on Niall's shoulder and squeezing gently. Whatever he's doing seems to work as Niall relaxes next to him. It should be awkward, Liam thinks as he becomes extremely aware of his hand and how he doesn't usually do this. At least not with people he doesn't know. He lets his hand drop back to his side but that just leads to Niall's hand settling low on his back.

It's kind of nice, actually.

"But you, Niall, you have dreams and you take stupid risks that pay off more than they set you back," Louis says seriously. Liam finds himself straightening up slightly in surprise. "Harry here is adorable yet he's wasting his potential."

"Heyyyy," Harry says. "Why are we picking on me?"

"Because you make it easy, love," Louis tells him.

Liam's eyes widen at the endearment but no one else in the room seems to even register it.

"And that's my point in bringing us all together anyway," Louis continues. "You're too nice to really steal anything of value from anyone, right? You never keep anyone's wallet, you just take the notes and slip it back into their pocket so they don't lose their ID or cards. You don't clear out anyone's bank account, even though you could."

"S'mean," Harry mumbles. He's managed to curl himself around Louis, his body turned into Louis' side and his arms loosely hung around Louis' waist.

Liam's just- well, he's really confused. This is not how people who've just met act around each other, at least not in his own experience. The first time he'd met Louis, they'd been in a bank in the middle of the night and Liam had a briefcase full of jewels in his hand, freezing as Louis had startled him by rounding the corner, looking small and sharp in the darkened hall. Louis certainly hadn't slung his arm around Liam and cuddled him. No, Louis had narrowed his gaze at Liam's briefcase before huffing loudly and demanding to know who Liam was and how he'd come to know about the jewels and lax security around them that had made this an irresistible job. And afterwards Louis had just turned on his heel and disappeared into the night. He hadn't even glanced back over his shoulder at Liam.

And that's mostly how their encounters had gone over the three years they'd been in the same racket.

"Which is why you need me, young Harold," Louis declares. "To fulfil that potential hiding behind that pretty face."

Harry huffs out a laugh into Louis' shoulder, obviously completely smitten.

"So what's the story with you then?" Niall asks, turning to Liam, his arm falling away and leaving Liam feel awkwardly bereft. "If you're retired, why are you here?"

"Because Liam here is the best thief I've ever come across," Louis declares. He moves away from Harry with a parting pat on his hip and walks towards Liam, his head tilted as he keeps his eyes on Liam's. Louis comes to a stop in front of him but doesn't reach out, leaving Liam to shift his balance from one foot to the other, unbearably uncomfortable.

Louis eventually extends his hand to Liam's and tangles their fingers together while Liam just lets him, more out of surprise more than anything. "He used to steal everything from right under my nose. Christ, the number of jobs I spent weeks and months planning, meticulously detailed down to the second and then I turned up on the night to find Liam was already on his way out, job done."

Liam's heart sinks. Oh god. Christ, he'd never _realised_. No wonder Louis hated him. He just hadn't-. Hell.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, although it feels hollow and far too late.

"Hey, the winner takes it all and all that crap," Louis says lightly. "But you are the best, Payno, and we need the best to pull this job off."

"So are we allowed to know what this job is then?" Zayn asks from behind them. Louis shifts, not dropping Liam's hand as he moves next to him to face Zayn.

Liam stifles a laugh as he realises that Harry's latched himself onto Zayn now. His hands are under Zayn's leather jacket and Harry's resting his chin on Zayn's shoulder. Zayn, in all fairness, looks pretty comfortable.

"There's a diamond," Louis says.

"There's always a diamond," Niall says, amused.

"This one is worth a cool few million. We'd all be set for life," Louis tells him. He names a museum where the diamond's going to be on display for a week as it travels from one collector to another across the country. "I know that museum, I've tried to break into it twice. That's where I need you guys."

"What the fuck are we gonna do with a diamond worth that much though, even if we do manage to steal it?" Niall asks. "It's gonna be pretty conspicuous."

"I've got a fence," Louis says easily. "It's not going to be a problem."

Liam catches Zayn's eye roll. He's pretty worried himself. He's got a business that's doing okay for itself. He doesn't need to do this.

Except then Zayn seems to realise that Liam's staring at him and he twists his face into a dorky expression, screwing up his eyes and sticking out his tongue. Liam laughs in surprise.

Louis squeezes his hand.

"Well I'm in," Niall says. "If the rest of you are."

"Yeah, I'm in," Harry says. He looks a little nervous.

"I guess I'm in too," Zayn says.

They all turn to look at Liam. Being the focus of everyone's attention is a lot, Liam realises as he swallows thickly. He'd be stupid to do it. He doesn't need to. He's got money in the bank and he owns his own relatively successful business. If he gets caught, all of that disappears.

He catches Niall's eager look. Zayn's warm stare. Harry's focused gaze. He feels Louis' hand in his, heavy and interwoven.

"I'm in," he finds himself saying hoarsely.

"Brilliant," Louis says, sounding relieved. "Let's start first thing tomorrow. Meet back here at 10am?"

It's met with a mixture of grumbles and whooping as Liam tries not to regret his entire life choices.

*

After a night spent tossing and turning as he agonises over his decision, Liam heads out just after dawn for a run to clear his head. He takes his usual route, letting his legs stride out at full stretch as he makes his way through the streets. He runs as the sun rises high enough to banish the shadows from the streets and the street lamps switch off. Liam runs until his lungs burn and sweat drips from his body, and he turns back home at a gentle jog.

Back at home, he showers and changes into jeans and a hoodie, running a hand through his damp hair and adding just enough wax to hold it in place before he makes toast and heads out, toast still in hand as he slides into his car. He's already rescheduled his appointments for the next two weeks since he's not sure what Louis' timeline is yet, so at least he doesn't have to worry about work and his manager can handle everything in his absence.

When Liam pulls up at the warehouse, there's two cars already parked in the lot. Liam parks next to the black VW and when he steps outside, he can hear music and laughter already coming from inside.

Harry's dancing around with two cables while Zayn's buried underneath a few tables, possibly trying to hook them up. Liam barely has a chance to wonder where the tables came from although he's guessing that the huge piles of electronics probably came from Zayn when Harry spots him.

"Liam!" Harry bounces over to him and lays a smacking kiss on his cheek. Liam tries his best not to look surprised but he feels dazed all the same, only just resisting the urge to press his fingers against the skin still warm from Harry's caress. "Just in time to help Zayn because apparently I'm too distracting."

"You are," comes the muffled yell from under the table. "Hi Liam."

"Hey mate," Liam calls back before a hand cups his cheek and forces Liam to look at Harry, who's pouting at him. "Hi Harry."

The smile he gets back from Harry is dazzling and Liam finds his gaze dropping to Harry's mouth. Which is. Well. Distracting. Zayn's got a point, Liam thinks hazily. Harry's mouth should probably be illegal. Or at least carry a warning of some kind.

Christ, this could be a problem.

"Hi Liam," Harry singsongs, and Liam's pretty sure Harry drops his voice low on purpose, drawling out Liam's name like a promise. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks," Liam lies. And because he's a terrible liar, he immediately flushes. "Uh, does Zayn need those cables?"

Harry brings the cables up for Liam's inspection. "Probably," he says cheerfully. "Hey Zayn, are you missing two cables?"

There's curse and a yell from Zayn's general direction.

"I'll take them over," Liam tells Harry, fighting a grin. Harry nods slowly, passing the cables over and letting his hands linger over Liam's. Liam thinks he's going to need something strong to get him through the rest of the day because it's not even close to midday yet. "Uh, maybe you could go get coffee for everyone?"

"Okay," Harry says agreeably. "What do you fancy, Liam?"

Liam's not sure whether Harry means it to sound as suggestive as it does, but he swallows around the sudden lump in his throat and he can't seem to drag his eyes away from Harry, who looks _delighted_. "Uh, just a cappuccino," he says in a strangled voice. "Probably best to get everyone the same. Everyone likes a cappuccino, right?"

"Good plan," Harry says, nodding seriously. "Five cappuccinos coming right up."

"Here," Liam says, pressing a few notes into his hand. He's almost certain that Harry doesn't have a lot of money on him and he doesn't want Harry to pick any pockets just so Liam can have a much-needed shot of caffeine. At least this money is honest, even if his business was bought with stolen gains.

Harry frowns at the money in his hand before he sighs quietly. "Thanks Liam," he says, avoiding Liam's eyes. "I'll be back in a bit, yeah?"

Liam wants to stop him; to tell Harry- god, he doesn't know what he wants to tell Harry but he doesn't like the sad look on his face or that he's responsible for it. But Harry just shrugs into his jacket and disappears through the door, his shoulders hunched up and his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Hey, my cables?" Zayn says, appearing from under the tables to look up at Liam with a faint frown. "Where's Harry?"

"Coffee run," Liam says shortly before he pulls his gaze away from the closed door and looks down at Zayn, who has somehow managed to again look incredible in just joggers and a black Led Zeppelin shirt. "I've got your cables."

"Come help me then, yeah?" Zayn asks, squinting up at Liam before he breaks into a tiny smile. "And you can tell me all the stuff you left out yesterday about Louis."

"What?" Liam asks dumbly as he drops to his knees and crawls under the table. "What do you mean?"

"There's obviously some history there, and I can't figure out if it's jealousy or if you had a bust up or whatever, but Louis kept looking at you like he was worried you'd run out of the building if he didn't keep a close eye on you," Zayn says as he takes one of the cables from Liam and starts to fiddle around with the equipment. "So share. If I'm putting my livelihood n the hands of four other lads, I want to know all I can about them. Helps build trust and all that, yeah?"

"We uh, we never really got along," Liam says, rubbing at his eyes wearily before he looks at Zayn. There's no judgement in Zayn's face at all, just a mild curiosity and Liam finds himself talking without really meaning to. "We kept bumping into each other on jobs. And yeah, I'd usually be there first but it's not because I was better or anything. Louis' a bit uh, well he's late to everything from what I can tell."

"Same," Zayn mutters from behind a very complicated bit of equipment. There's wires everywhere. "I had to set three alarms to get up this morning."

"Wow, really?" Liam asks in surprise. Once he's awake, he's out of bed and ready to hit the day. Going back to sleep after being woken up just isn't something he could ever figure out doing.

"I'm lazy and I like my bed too much, to be honest," Zayn says as his head reappears, a wolfish grin on his face. "So go on. Louis."

"He used to always make these comments and I, like, well, they weren't very nice," Liam says. He shrugs uselessly. "I didn't realise. That he was turning up after months of work only to find me already there and all that work a complete waste. He must have hated me."

"Nah," Zayn says. He shuffles forward and puts his hand over Liam's. It's comforting. "He wouldn't ask you to come do this with him if he hated you. He was probably worried that _you_ hated _him_."

"But why would I hate him?" Liam asks, genuinely surprised. "I never said anything to him."

"That could be why," Zayn points out gently. "Louis, on the short acquaintance I have with him, seems to be a pretty demonstrative guy. You, on the other hand, are more self-contained, from what I can tell. Harder to read, I guess."

"Oh," Liam breathes out. It's just that he's never thought of himself as very complicated before for the simple fact that he's _not_. He's only ever dated two girls, both long-term relationships. He's got a few mates but mostly keeps to himself. He runs his gym and he likes to keep fit himself; he likes music and comics and the odd night out. There's really not much else going on in his life. Even when he was a thief, it was a necessity more than anything and he kept it quiet. In fact, he's pretty sure that Louis, until yesterday, was the only person in the world who knew who or what he was. His parents accepted the lame lottery win story he'd fed them in a panic when they'd asked about how he'd been able to buy the gym and that'd been that.

"Lads!"

Liam barely has a chance to wonder at how quickly he lights up at Niall's voice before he's scrambling out from under the table to find Niall and Louis grinning down at him.

"Hey," Liam says, getting to his feet with a hand from Niall. He's yanked into a hug that expels all the air from his lungs. "Hey mate."

"Alright Payno?" Niall says, clearly having taken a shining to Louis' nickname for him. "Where're the other two?"

"Zayn's under the table hooking all this stuff up," Liam says, pulling back and glancing awkwardly at Louis. "Harry's gone to get coffee."

"Yo Zayn, what're you doing?" Niall yells before he drops gracefully to his knees and crawls under the table, leaving Liam and Louis standing alone together.

"Glad you came back, mate," Louis says quietly.

Liam isn't quite at the stage of being able to pull Louis into a hug or even accepting one from Louis, but he offers his hand anyway. "We're working together now, yeah? Accomplices."

Louis huffs out a laugh, sliding his hand into Liam's and shaking it gently. "No chance of you turning up to ruin my fun this time."

Liam tries not to flinch, covering up Louis' vaguely harsh words with an uneasy smile. He knows Louis doesn't mean it how it sounds now. He needs to get over this as much as Louis does, apparently. "Maybe this time we can have fun together."

It comes out as more of a question than Liam would have liked, but Louis beams up at him. "Now you're talking, Payno."

"Hey, I got coffee!" Harry's voice cuts through the moment and Liam has to shake his head to clear the fog of Louis actually _smiling at him_ with something that looked like fondness.

Except that he then freezes as he stares at Harry, who's got the collar of his leather jacket turned up against the cold and he's got his hands full with drinks. Liam's trying not to focus on how large Harry's hands have to be to hold that much coffee but Christ. They're _huge_. And it doesn't help that Harry's hair is windswept to the side, his white t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and his skinny jeans are hugging his legs. God, Liam _can't_ look at his legs. He's meant to be a professional. Or something.

"Did you get any tea?" Louis asks, eyeing Harry's wares suspiciously.

Harry's face falls. "No. Shit. Don't you like coffee?"

"I'm a tea man," Louis says. "It's alright, I've got a kettle in the car. Thought we'd need it for supplies."

Harry still looks crestfallen as Louis slips out of the warehouse. Liam moves slowly, taking two cups from him and putting them on the table before he gently wrestles the rest from Harry's grip.

"I like coffee," he tries. "Thanks for getting it, Harry."

Harry's face lights up at that and Liam finds himself with an armful of lanky boy and curly hair attacking his face.

"Thanks Liam," he mutters into Liam's neck. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Liam says soothingly. It's a steep learning curve with these boys and he's just about hanging on and keeping up.

Harry doesn't really fit comfortably in his arms since Harry's all gangly limbs and he's tucked his head under Liam's chin, despite him being slightly taller than Liam. But when Harry pulls back, he looks happier and it might be Liam's imagination but Harry's fingers seem to linger on Liam's arms before he pulls back completely. "Uh, I'm sorry about earlier, Harry. With the money. I fucked up, didn't I?"

Harry's smile fades a little. Liam shoves his hands in his pockets before he starts twisting them nervously. He just really doesn't want to fuck this up because Harry, and the rest of the boys in fact, they're starting to feel like mates. Like really touchy-feely, vaguely inappropriate mates.

"No, of course not. I mean, like yeah I was a bit like, hurt? But I went to Starbucks so you saved me like, twenty quid. And that's twenty quid I didn't have to steal from someone. So yeah. I get it, Liam."

Liam feels the mortification rising but he shoves it back down and steps closer to Harry, his hand reaching slowly to circle Harry's wrist. He thinks maybe he's trembling because this is all new to him, to be able to just reach out to people and having that be okay. "Like I said, I fucked up," he says softly.

"Yeah you did Payno!" Niall yells from under the table and Liam belated remembers that they're not alone in the warehouse.

Harry, well, he maybe giggles a tiny bit. And Liam exhales a relieved laugh. "See? I told you. My money might be clean now but everything I earn is built from stolen shit. I shouldn't have done that, this morning. And I'm sorry."

"Liam, it's fine," Harry tells him. He flips his hand and catches Liam's wrist in his hand, leaving them locked together. "But thanks."

"So we're good?" Liam asks, because he likes to make sure.

Harry leans in close. "We're really good," he whispers loud enough just for Liam's ears alone.

Liam's saved from trying to give a response that isn't just moans and gibberish by Louis' return, brandishing a kettle triumphantly.

"Right lads, let's get this warehouse of mine set up for some serious heist-worthy planning," Louis declares. "Liam, you're in charge of heavy lifting, obviously. Can't let that gym work go to waste."

Liam groans loudly as Harry's hand slips away from his.

He grabs a coffee and takes a long gulp before Louis puts him to work.

*

Over the next two days, Liam learns a lot. Once the equipment is all set up with Zayn's approval, he does something complicated that involves the blueprints of the museum and camera angles and other things that go right over Liam's head. But he enjoys sitting with Zayn and letting Zayn talk through what he's doing, even if Liam doesn't follow all of it.

He watches Harry trying to teach Zayn how to pickpocket, giggling into his hands as Niall, who plays the role of the unsuspecting mark, does his best ass wiggle for Zayn.

He catches Harry watching him. A lot. And when he's been caught, instead of looking away sheepishly like Liam would do, Harry just tilts his head a little and smiles at him, a tiny crease between his eyes like he's trying to work Liam out.

Liam's torn between telling Harry that there's nothing to work out, that he's exactly what he appears to be; and dragging out any assumptions Harry has about him being mysterious or a puzzle. Sooner or later Harry's going to realise what the rest of the world seems to figure out five minutes after meeting him: that Liam's boring and uninteresting and he's a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.

Niall likes to fall asleep on his shoulder late at night, his hand curled around Liam's bicep as he drools into Liam's neck. Liam finds it far more endearing than he should.

Louis and Zayn disappear for cigarette breaks, even though Liam's not sure Louis even really smokes. But they come back grinning, Zayn's hand on Louis' back or Louis' arm locked with Zayn's.

Louis tends to drink a lot of tea and spends most of his time seemingly derailing his own plan. He goads Harry into playfights, he teases Niall mercilessly and he distracts Zayn all the time. Not that any of them seem to mind. In fact, when Zayn mentions that they need to go scope out the museum in person, Harry slides his arms around Louis and pouts at Zayn in protest.

"I'll be back soon," Louis says, patting Harry's hand absently. "Just play with Niall until I get back, okay?"

Harry glares at Zayn once more for good measure before Niall drags him away, leaving the three of them to head to the museum.

"So what's the plan here?" Louis asks as he rests his elbows on the front two seats, leaning forward and raising an eyebrow at Zayn.

"I need to figure out exactly where the cameras are and what the black spots are, where the cameras don't reach," Zayn tells him. "You're going to distract any museum staff or security in the room so that they don't notice me staring at cameras and angles."

"Tommo's good at distraction," Liam says as he turns into the museum car park and pulls into a space.

He turns just in time to see Louis beaming at him, like he does whenever Liam uses the nickname that had just spilled out of his mouth for the first time yesterday. Liam finds himself using it at every opportunity if only to see Louis looking so delighted with him.

"I am, in fact, a great distraction, Payno," Louis echoes as they tumble out of the car and head inside. After they've paid and waived away the offer of a guide, Liam steps back and lets Zayn lead them through the rooms, all of them feigning interest in the art and artefacts as they make their way through the museum.

They don't encounter any staff until they reach the central room where Louis' intelligence says the diamond will be located for its week-long display. Zayn immediately starts pacing one of the walls and Liam and Louis stand around trying to look knowledgeable and yet inconspicuous.

"I hate art," Louis grumbles. They're tucked away in a corner and Louis can't seem to settle, his gaze darting around the room and his left foot tapping the wooden floor softly.

"I don't hate it," Liam answers him while he keeps his eyes on Zayn because he's fascinated by the way Zayn works. Zayn's slow and steady, never rushed or thrown off his guard. Unlike Louis, who seems to be the complete opposite. "I just don't really get it. I mean, I like what I like, you know?"

"You like fit birds in lads mags," Louis tells him with a sniff.

"Actually," Liam starts, intending to maybe tell Louis that maybe it's not just fit birds that he likes, when Louis suddenly straightens and hisses at Liam to shut up.

Liam searches out Zayn automatically but he's still wandering around the perimeter of the room, lost in his own world of angles and distances.

"Sorry mate, gonna have to abandon you for the greater good," Louis says with a loud sigh before he moves away. He's heading towards a guy across the room, letting his hips sway gently as he moves, to Liam's surprise. The guy is pretty cute; Liam can see that from here. His hair is twisted up into a quiff and he's got a nice face, Liam decides. Like he should always be smiling or laughing, judging by the crinkles by his eyes.

Curious, Liam edges closer while still keeping an eye on Zayn.

"Hey," Louis says, his voice an octave lower than his usual speaking voice.

Liam just about stifles a giggle into his hand that he somehow turns into a cough. Zayn's head lifts and he clocks Louis' new friend. Liam gives Zayn what he hopes is a reassuring head nod and Zayn grins back at him before turning back to whatever it is that he's doing.

"I'm Louis," Louis continues blithely, offering the guy his hand. The man stares at him in bemusement and honestly, Liam can totally relate, before he slides a large hand into Louis' smaller one and they shake.

"Nick," the guy says in a Northern accent and Louis' face lights up. Liam honestly can't tell if it's faked or not.

"Nice to meet you Nick," Louis says, and Liam swears he sees Louis duck his head flirtatiously. "Come here often then?"

Liam groans silently but Nick laughs, the sound full and throaty, and pretty loud in the quiet museum. Not that either Nick or Louis seem to have noticed.

"That's a terrible pick up line, love," Nick tells Louis. "Tragic, really."

"Well, who says it was a pick up line?" Louis says a bit sharply. He follows it with an equally sharp smile. "Maybe I've seen you here a few times."

"It's a possibility," Nick allows. "Considering I work here."

"Solid career goals, Nicholas," Louis says. "Are you a tour guide then?"

"Not quite," Nick says. He's not exactly smiling, but he hasn't walked away from Louis either. Liam's _fascinated_. "But if you want a tour, I can probably blag it. There's an original Lowry in the Romance room, you know."

"Really, Nick? Trying to woo me with industrial paintings? I'm flattered, honestly," Louis says dryly.

Zayn appears beside Liam just as he realises that he's starting to read Louis better now.

"Who's that?" Zayn murmurs quietly, hooking his thumb around one of Liam's belt loops. Liam leans into him unconsciously.

"Nick, who may or may not be a tour guide but he definitely works here," Liam whispers back. "Louis seems to know who he is, although he's pretending not to. And they're flirting. Louis likes him."

"Really?" Zayn asks sceptically as Louis wrinkles his nose at Nick while Nick frowns down at Louis. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely," Liam says firmly. "They keep leaning into each other. And Louis looks a bit smug, right? That's because he knows Nick's into him. And he keeps tipping his head back. I dunno why, but Nick seems to like it because he keeps staring at Louis' neck."

He can feel Zayn's steady gaze on him and he turns his head, flushing slightly when Zayn cocks an eyebrow at him. "Pretty observant, Liam."

"I just uh, I mean, I like watching people," Liam says, and he knows his flush is deepening. Liam shoves his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight a little.

"Hey, it's nothing to be embarrassed about," Zayn says, nudging his hip against Liam's. "It's pretty cool, I reckon."

"Yeah?" Liam asks hopefully. "I mean, yeah. Cool."

Zayn smiles as he looks back towards Nick and Louis, who seem to be pressed up against each other pretty snugly as they argue over whether Banksie is a vandal (Nick) or a genius (Louis). "You think we should break it up? I'm all done here."

"I'm scared to get in the middle of that," Liam mutters.

They end up watching Louis and Nick argue for ten more minutes before they disappear to the cafe and sit down with their teas to wait for Louis to realise they'd left him. It takes another twenty minutes for Louis to slide into a seat opposite them and glare at their empty mugs.

"Thanks for abandoning me," Louis says archly. "I was saving your arse back there, Zayn. Nick's head of security here."

"I assume you knew that before we walked in here," Zayn says, ignoring Louis' accusatory tone.

"Course I did," Louis says, giving a good impression of being mildly outraged. "I know everyone who works here. Even Mary, behind the counter here. She's got a husband and three kids under 10. Makes a mean Lemon Drizzle."

After a stunned silence, Liam clears his throat. "I don't know whether to be scared or impressed. But uh, I'll grab five slices of cake before we leave, yeah?"

"Your oldest sister prefers chocolate cake over Victoria Sponge," Louis tells him smugly before Liam can scramble to his feet.

"I definitely don't want to know how you know that," Liam says firmly before he heads to the counter, digging out change as he smiles apologetically at poor Mary, who is absolutely clueless about the level of intrusion that's recently been foisted onto her unsuspecting family.

*

"Shut up, Liam, no one cares what you think," Louis says loudly as they walk into the warehouse. Harry and Niall both look up with concerned expressions but Liam just laughs and gives Louis a playful shove. "You either, Zayn. Your opinion is the worst."

"So it went well then," Niall guesses. He's in the chair Zayn usually sits in, his feet up on the table while Harry's over by the kettle making tea. Louis heads straight for him with a pat on his head that Harry leans into.

"You're my favourite, Harold," Louis tells him loudly before he looks over his shoulder to glare at Liam and Zayn. "You'd never betray me like these two idiots, would you?"

"Never," Harry swears as he hands Louis his tea. "Although I'm pretty sure Liam and Zayn wouldn't either."

"Traitors," Louis sighs. "You're all traitors."

"Louis' got himself a crush," Liam tells Niall in a stage-whisper. It's totally worth it when Louis spins round and goes bright red. "I think it's mutual."

"Nicolas Grimshaw is a complete and utter twat," Louis splutters. His mouth tightens and his eyes narrow on Liam and honestly, Liam's debating whether Louis' going to throw his tea at him. "And it's called _acting_ Liam. Subterfuge. I'm trying to win him over, wanker. For the _plan_."

"Were you trying to win him over when you told him his taste in scarves was shit and he was obviously one of those terrible hipsters, so how could he possibly have taken a job in security?" Zayn asks thoughtfully.

Liam and Niall valiantly try not to laugh but Louis' face is a picture of frustration and outrage. It's beautiful, really.

"I'm playing the long game, _Zayn_ ," Louis hisses at him.

"I believe you," Harry says loyally, sliding his arm around Louis' waist and hooking his chin over Louis' shoulder. It seems to work a little as Louis visibly calms down and relaxes a little. Harry shoots Niall and Liam a grin that would look smug on anyone else. On Harry's cherubic face though it just looks sweet and a bit silly.

"They're totally gone on each other," Liam murmurs under his breath, just loud enough for Niall to hear.

"Louis and Nick or Louis and Harry?" Niall mutters back and sends Liam a cheeky grin and wink before he gets to his feet to let Zayn sit down and get to work.

Liam rubs his chest to ease the odd weight that's just settled there.

"Hey, want to keep me company while I hack into the museum's security videos?" Zayn asks, glancing up at Liam with a curious stare.

"Yeah, okay," Liam says, pulling a chair over and collapsing into it. He's vaguely aware of Zayn's fingers flying over the keyboard and a series of complicated screens and data being pulled up but mostly he's trying not to concentrate on the implication of Niall's question and why it would bother him, anyway.

*

Over the next two days, Zayn hacks into the security system at the museum and they're gifted with bird's eye views of everything that happens onsite. Louis had already listed the important information like security changeover times and patrol timings but now they can watch each guard and study their habits - when they go for coffee or whether they sleep on the job. Louis goes to the museum both days under the guise of making friends with Nick and Liam spends a lot of time with the boys watching them flirt badly over CCTV.

Liam spends most of his time not doing much at all. He hasn't worked out in days except for early morning runs and he's antsy to burn off the excess energy he has. He's jittery and anxious, a throwback to his teenage years before he learnt to channel his energy into something more productive like running or boxing or lifting weights. The worst thing is that he knows he's annoying the boys with his inability to sit still and his habit of tapping whatever's in front of him - his foot on the floor, his hand on his knee.

Liam finds himself outside the warehouse tucked around the back, away from where Louis and Zayn sneak out for cigarette breaks and away from the road and any prying eyes. He's not sure how long he's out there, lying on the grass and whiling the hours away, before someone flops down onto the grass next to him, long lanky legs stretched out in skinny dark jeans.

Neither of them speak for a while and Liam closes his eyes, resting his head back on his folded arms and trying to focus on his breathing to stop the restless energy that's threatening to engulf him.

"So," Harry says eventually. Liam can feel him moving and he opens his eyes, turning his head towards Harry who's curled up on his side, facing Liam so that their faces are only inches apart. "Wanna place a bet that Louis ends up shagging Nick then?"

Liam wants to ask Harry if he'd mind. "I just hope it's not captured on one of the security cameras," is what Liam says instead. He rolls onto his side, his hand resting on the grass between them. "Zayn would be scarred for life."

Harry laughs softly and nudges Liam's knee with his own. "Hey, you've been quiet recently," Harry says. It's a leading question and Liam knows he doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to; Harry doesn't push the way Louis does or even Zayn, in his own gentle way.

"I'm not used to being so lazy," Liam says quietly. He keeps his gaze firmly on his own hand, letting his fingers tap against the firm ground rhythmically. "I own a gym so I train most days. I'm not very good at being cooped up inside. Never have been."

"That's understandable," Harry says, and he slides his hand over Liam's, causing him to still as he studies the long, slender fingers covered in big, chunky rings that he'll have to ask Harry about one day.

"I guess I just don't understand why I'm here," Liam says in a smaller voice. God, he hates this part of himself. The part that questions why he's here. What purpose he has. His need to be useful is deeply engrained in his psyche and the less he contributes, the worse this feeling becomes; itchy and painful and aching. "Like, how am I helping? You guys could do this without me so I don't understand why Louis wanted me to join you guys."

"Well, from what I can tell, Louis believes in you," Harry says slowly.

Liam looks up at that, feeling the painful pinch of hope that's probably pathetically obvious on his face but god, he doesn't care.

"He does," Harry says, more insistently this time. "Maybe you should believe in yourself a bit more, Liam. Like the rest of us. I believe in you. Louis says you're the best and anyway, even if you're not, then who cares? We get to hang out, and be mates, you know? That's pretty cool."

Liam's not sure he's followed Harry's thought process properly but he nods anyway. "It's been nice. You know, having mates."

Harry's hand curls around his until their fingers entwine, resting on the cool grass. "Well then," Harry says, his lips curving into a wide, earnest smile, "that's the best reason for being here, right?"

Liam squeezes Harry's hand. It's the only answer he can give right now.

*

When Louis had declared they were all going out drinking, Liam had been initially reluctant.

_"Bonding, Payno," Louis had yelled across the warehouse. "No getting out of it. We're all going out tonight and getting drunk. LADS!"_

_"Lads!" Niall had chanted back as Harry joined in. Even Zayn had offered a half-hearted cheer with a weak fist-pump._

_"Come on Liam." Niall looped his arm through Liam's and pouted up at him. "It'll be fun. Lads!"_

_"Okay," Liam murmured. "Lads."_

_"LADS!" Niall had yelled loudly and they'd all echoed him together; everyone looking excited and happy. Everyone except Liam._

"LADS!" Liam yells as he passes out the next round of pints around the table they've settled around in the club. He's not usually partial to a pint but after the first few rounds, they taste better, he's decided as he sways slightly before Louis tugs him down into the chair next to him.

"What are we talking about then?" Liam asks as he sneaks his arm around Louis' shoulders. He steals a quick, furtive glance at Louis but he looks pretty comfortable in the crook of Liam's arm and makes no effort to move away so Liam relaxes a little.

"Girlfriends and boyfriends, past and present," Zayn tells him as he picks up a pint and brings it to his lips to take a sip. "Louis' keeping himself single for Grimmy, obviously, although Nick'd probably be proper jealous if he could see you two cuddling, and well, Harry's shit at relationships."

"Heyyy," Harry protests. "Unfair."

"Sorry mate," Zayn says with a grin as he tugs Harry in for a cuddle. Harry's pout soon turns into a complacent smirk as he fits himself into Zayn's side and Zayn's hand buries itself in Harry's curls, stroking them almost absently.

Liam's not sure he's ready for this conversation. He's had two fairly serious girlfriends and that's the sum extent of his dating history. And while he loved them both and they loved him back, maybe things could have been a bit more, well, adventurous. In the bedroom. And maybe that's the problem because Liam's never had sex anywhere _except_ the bedroom. In a bed. With the lights off.

And Liam's not exactly sure how his painfully increasing attraction to all things Harry fits, but it's not something he has to work out right now or blurt out for everyone to know. Or maybe ever, in fact. He knows Harry's been with girls and boys because Harry has a habit of oversharing; something he has in common with both Louis and Niall. And maybe he's caught Harry staring at him a few times and possibly flirting with him a bit. But Liam's been wrong about people showing an interest in him before. Painfully wrong. And just because he wants to maybe get his hand on Harry's dick, that doesn't mean it's worth ruining this thing they're building between the five of them because he's almost certain he would. At least what Liam hopes they're building anyway. He's been wrong about _that_ before too.

"I've got a boyfriend," Niall says as he puts his half-finished pint down on the table. "We've been together two years. He spends a lot of time out of town though so we don't see each other as much as we'd like."

"You've got a steady long-term boyfriend and this is the first we're hearing about it?" Louis asks, sounding mildly outraged. "What happened to trust and honesty, Niall James Horan?"

"Oh you're just pissed it didn't come up in your research," Niall says with a knowing grin. Louis huffs loudly and grabs his beer, glaring into the pale gold liquid with annoyance. "Anyway. He's older. Like, not creepy older but he's like a proper adult and everything. Irish too, of course."

"Of course," Harry repeats dryly.

"We spend a lot of time sexting and having phone sex," Niall says cheerfully to a chorus of groans. "Skype's our favourite of course, although it can get messy."

"Too much information, Nialler," Zayn mutters.

"If you think that's bad, you should hear us when we do finally get some quality time together," Niall says with a smug smirk. "Filthy, is what it is."

"Why am I not surprised?" Zayn asks.

"Is he hot?" Harry asks curiously. He's got a hand on Zayn's chest and Liam can't seem to drag his eyes away from the possessive gesture. He knows, when he's being rational and not drunk, that Zayn has a girlfriend who's out of town right now. He also knows, when he's not impaired by alcohol, that they're turning into some kind of strange, co-dependent cuddly pile of puppies with touch-dependency issues. It's both weird and yet- well, _not_ weird.

"I need some water," Liam mumbles and stands up, being careful not to knock anything off the table. "Niall, you can have my pint."

"Cheers mate," Niall says happily as he reaches over for Liam's untouched drink. "Everything alright?"

"Just hot and not used to drinking so much," Liam says with a self-deprecating smile as his vision blurs for a moment before it settles back into focus on Niall's concerned face. "I'll be back in a minute."

The music sounds louder as he stumbles through the crowd, trying to find a path without jostling anyone too much. He mumbles an endless stream of apologies as he makes his way slowly through the hot, sweaty bodies dancing and grinding that stand between him and the exit. His black t-shirt is clinging to his body and his feet are dragging but the exit finally looms in front of him. He pushes through the fire door and onto the small smokers balcony, dragging in deep breaths of fresh air tainted by the faint smell of smoke and he grabs at the railing to lean forward and close his eyes to stop everything from spinning.

He's not sure how long he stands there before a hand drops onto his shoulder.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Fine," he murmurs. He still can't open his eyes but he lets his head drop onto Harry's shoulder and makes appreciative noises when Harry's arm slips around his waist and pulls him closer. Liam shifts to let himself lean on Harry, their bodies plastered together from shoulder to hip and god, it's just nice to let someone else hold onto him for a moment. "M'drunk."

"Me too," Harry whispers conspiratorially. "You wanna head home?"

"No," Liam says, groaning when he tries to shake his head and everything sways for a moment. "No, I'm okay. Just need a minute."

"Okay," Harry says easily.

After a few minutes of silence between them while the distant hum of conversation rolls in the background, Harry starts humming. It's a tune Liam recognises; from back home in the kitchen, playing as his dad made dinner. An old song with an easy beat that Liam joins in with under his breath.

"I don't think my legs work," Liam says eventually. His face is smushed into Harry's neck and the words slur a little but he can feel Harry's body shaking like he's laughing. Liam pouts into Harry's lovely warm neck.

"You know what you were saying yesterday, about not being able to work out?" Harry asks. He's running his hand up and down Liam's back with long, graceful strokes and Liam has the oddest urge to purr. He settles for pressing in closer to Harry and rubbing his cheek into Harry's neck. "We should go. Tomorrow. I can meet you at your gym and we can work out together."

"You work out?" Liam asks. He shouldn't be surprised since Harry feels pretty solid underneath him. Plus, Liam's not exactly light himself and yet Harry seems to be having no trouble holding him up. He's just not sure that he'll be able to handle a workout session with Harry. Not while he's in this odd stage of maybe wanting to lick Harry's skin and wrap his legs around Harry's waist to see if he could hold Liam's weight against a wall. It's confusing and scary and it's a pull that he's finding harder and harder to resist.

"Not regularly," Harry admits. His hand stills on the curve of Liam's back and he rubs his thumb in gentle circles over Liam's cotton shirt. "But I could blow off some cobwebs. You'd have to go easy on me though."

"What makes you think I'd have to go easy on you?" Liam asks curiously.

Harry pulls back and Liam makes a tiny noise of protest as he finds himself standing up without Harry to lean on. "These," Harry says and his hands slide up Liam's arms to rest on his biceps before giving them a gentle squeeze. "You keep flashing them at the warehouse. They're very distracting, Liam."

Liam _knows_ he's blushing. "I do not," he mutters, ducking his head. "And they're just arms, Harry."

"How dare you," Harry says sternly before he dissolves into giggles. "Works of art these are, Liam. It's criminal to cover them up, if you ask me. They should be on display like, all the time."

"Shut up Hazza," Liam says, but there's no heat behind the words and Harry just grins dopily at him. "But if you really want to-, I mean, _do_ you really want to?"

"Yeah. I mean, it'll be nice, right?" Harry says. He looks oddly excited about it. "Bonding, yeah? Just the two of us. Bonding over sweaty, musky gym things."

"Yeah," Liam says before he has to clear his throat. His head is still thick and sluggish with alcohol and he's going to be horribly hungover in the morning, but he wants to do it. "It's Payne and Gain on Bridge Street. If you're coming from town and you hit the railway crossing, you've gone too far."

"Payne and Gain." Harry makes a noise halfway between a groan and a giggle. "Okay, like, 6am?"

"You know that's less than five hours away, right?" Liam asks. Harry makes a face but he nods.

"It's a date," Harry tells him.

Liam tries really hard not to flush again.

*

Liam feels _rough_. He's in his office, downing bottles of water from his fridge and debating whether it's too soon to take more painkillers when Harry appears in his doorway looking fresh and far, far too cheerful on less than four hours sleep. They'd slunk out of the club not long after their gym conversation with Zayn, leaving Louis and Niall at the table singing along to Beyoncé and on their next round of pints.

"Up and at 'em, Liam!" Harry says brightly. He's wearing fluorescent yellow shorts over black lycra skin-tight running tights that cling to Harry's long legs. He's also got on a skin-tight black shirt on and to finish his outfit off, he's wearing an orange headband to keep his hair back. He looks ridiculous and so Harry-like that Liam can feel his mood lifting already.

Suddenly thirsty, despite the water he's already downed that morning, Liam finishes the rest of his water. "Yeah, I'm coming."

Liam runs Harry through a warm up and is pleased when Harry easily keeps up. He strips off his shirt so he's just in his vest and shorts and flips Harry off when he wolf-whistles. They climb onto the treadmills and Liam sets a brisk pace to get Harry's heart-rate up as quickly as possible. Harry runs on a simple programme while Liam sets his to a hill incline and they run side-by-side for twenty minutes.

Liam's a bit surprised that Harry doesn't talk through the training session but he doesn't mind the quiet. He prefers it actually. There's just the faint strains of the radio playing through the sound system, the steady rhythmic sounds of the treadmills and the pounding of their feet, and their heavy breaths intermingling between. It's soothing, Liam realises halfway through the programme. It's _nice_.

After an hour where they've rotated through the rowing machine and cross-trainer and bikes and Harry's mostly kept up with him, Liam finally powers down on the bike and coasts to a stop.

"I thought I was in fairly good shape," Harry moans next to him as he drops his head onto his arms on the handlebars. "You're ridiculous, you know?"

Liam grins as he climbs off the bike and moves around to clap his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Hey, you did amazing Harry. For someone who doesn't train regularly, you're in amazing shape."

Harry climbs off his own bike and steadies himself with a hand on Liam's arm. "Liar," he says with a laugh. "You went easy on me while you did all the hard programmes."

"A few more sessions and you'll be showing me up," Liam tells him, and he's only half-joking. "Weights?"

Harry groans but he follows Liam over to the weights across the gym. "Take it easy on me Liam," Harry pleads. "My arms are burning from the rowing."

Liam starts him off on an easy set of reps that Harry breezes through while Liam picks up his usual set.

"Jesus Christ Liam," Harry mutters as Liam pauses halfway through a lift to glance over at him, puzzled. "Your arms. Have I mentioned that they're _ridiculous_?"

"They're just arms," Liam murmurs, embarrassed. Except maybe he pushes himself a little harder and flexes a bit more than he usually does. And maybe he hides his smiles when he catches Harry staring at them.

He's only human, after all.

*

Liam and Harry stroll into the warehouse together, teasing and nudging at each other only to be faced with three miserable looking colleagues.

“You hangin’, lads?” Harry takes a long slurp from his berry juice drink. He’d begged Liam to stop on the way over at the coffee shop down the road from the gym that Harry had taken an immediate fancy to. Liam’s got a tropical one and he thinks it tastes like heaven. He’s been suffering badly on the drive over since Harry does this thing with his tongue and a straw that should, quite frankly, be illegal. Not to mention that Harry’s lips are obscenely pink and puffed up slightly from the ice cold drink.

“I’m dying,” Louis declares dramatically. He’s got his eyes closed and he’s half-hanging off Niall while Zayn’s at the computer, typing much slower than he usually does. Louis opens an eye and stares at the speculatively. “Harry, be a love and make me tea.”

“Lazy git,” Harry says fondly before turning towards the kitchen area that they've slowly been expanding.

“Don’t insult me when I’m dying, Harold,” Louis calls out, eyes firmly shut again as he snuggles closer to Niall, who actually looks alright, considering. “It’s rude.”

“Perhaps we should call Nick,” Liam says teasingly. When Louis glares at him, Liam laughs in delight because this feels good. Not the hangover, admittedly. The hangover, mostly waning thanks to the gym session and fruit drink, is not great. But the teasing and the ease with which he ruffles Louis’ hair gently when he passes him, Louis’ grunt of acknowledgement, and the high five he gets from Niall before he drops into a chair next to Zayn feel really good.

“Share,” Zayn demands weakly. Liam passes over his drink and doesn’t even mind when Zayn greedily demolishes half the drink before he leans back and winces apologetically. “Sorry mate. Thirsty.”

“Have the rest,” Liam tells him. He settles back in the chair and spins around slowly. “Last night was great, lads. Thanks for dragging me out.”

“No problem Payno,” Niall says. “You missed Louis doing the Macarena on our table though.”

Liam’s eyebrows shoot up and Harry starts grinning as he pours out five cups of tea.

“The Macarena wasn’t even playing,” Louis groans. He looks a bit green and Liam wonders if he should go grab a bag or bucket for Louis to throw up in just in case. Niall slides his hand into Louis’ hair and it seems to stop Louis’ moans for a bit though so Liam stays where he is. “This information never leaves this room.”

“I bet Nick likes a good Macarena,” Zayn says, clearly giving up on whatever he was trying to do and spinning around next to Liam. He slurps at the last dregs of Liam’s drink. “All that hip thrusting and arms flailing. You’d have him in bed in no time.”

“If I wanted Nick in bed,” Louis says as archly as he can manage, “then I’d have Nick in bed. The point being, _Zayn_ , that I don’t want Nick in bed. Ever.”

“Liar,” Zayn mumbles under his breath so Louis can’t hear. Liam grins though, which earns him another glare from Louis.

"I should go over there though," Louis says after a few minutes of silence. "Just to you know, keep up the charade."

Liam elbows Zayn in the ribs when he opens his mouth and Zayn promptly closes it again.

"Yeah, good plan Lou," Liam tells him as sincerely as he can manage. "Can't forget the charade."

Louis gives him a suspicious look but he lets the comment slide.

As soon as Louis' out the door and they've heard the roar of his car pulling out onto the main road, the four of them erupt into giggles and Zayn makes short work of finding Nick on the cameras.

It takes Louis an hour to appear on the cameras, during which time Niall's been to KFC to feed their hangovers and they've crowded around Zayn's screen to watch Nick check his phone every five minutes and fiddle with his hair seven times. They even caught him using one of the glass display cabinets to check his appearance.

When Zayn finally spots Louis walking into the museum, he starts to chuckle softly.

"He went home to shower and change," Niall says loudly, pointing at the screen before he lets out a loud cackle. "He's got such a hard on for Nick."

Liam's gaze flickers over towards Harry who's staring at the screen avidly. His left knee is bouncing nervously and Harry's chewing on his fingernails. Liam drops his hand carefully onto Harry's shoulder and squeezes gently. Harry's hand comes up to rest on Liam's but he doesn't take his eyes off the screen where Louis' found Nick. Liam watches as Louis pouts and frowns at Nick while Nick just seems to be amused by Louis. But even through the silent screens, it's clear by their body language that they're both interested. Louis keeps leaning in and up towards Nick, while Nick leans down into Louis' space and he keeps touching Louis, never for very long but it's obvious all the same.

"Come on," Liam says gruffly after they've watched Louis and Nick flirt for almost ten minutes and Harry seems to be entranced. "Let's go do something more useful than being creepy stalkers."

"Being creepy stalkers is kind of important in this line of work," Zayn points out reasonably.

Liam shoots him an exasperated look. Zayn smiles innocently up at him.

"Zayn, I'm pretty sure you still need to work on your pickpocket skills," Liam says sweetly. "Perhaps Harry can give you some more lessons. Useful skill, pickpocketing. You never know what you're going to find."

He waves Zayn's phone around slowly, enjoying the way Zayn's face drops into a scowl. "Thieving git," Zayn says, grabbing at his phone and snatching it away from Liam. "Didn't feel a thing."

"Pretty impressive, Payno," Niall murmurs quietly behind him. Liam drops into the chair next to him and they settle back comfortably to watch Harry try to teach Zayn yet again the basic tricks to sticky fingers and light touches. "Not seen you in action before."

"I keep telling you guys I'm retired," Liam says dryly.

"And yet here you are," Niall counters. He nudges Liam's knee with his thigh. "I reckon you could probably teach us all a thing or two about this heist business."

Liam just shrugs. He's picked up a lot of things over the years but he doesn't necessarily want to fall back into those bad habits or the fractured thought processes that go with them as he tries to justify his thefts. And there's nothing he's learned that could help them, anyway. They've already got the tools. The only thing Liam can offer is his gym and training to work on their stamina. And if they follow Louis' plan, then they're all going to need to be a lot fitter than they currently are.

“Pickpocketing should be a breeze for you with that face Zayn,” Niall calls out when they’ve been watching the two of them for ten minutes. Liam’s made tea for the two of them and Niall’s slurped his way through half his mug while Liam waits for his to cool down to a more tepid temperature. It’s a bone of contention between him and Louis, who is a staunch advocate of drinking tea when it’s piping hot, but it’s not as bad as their arguments over the addition of sugar to tea.

“What’s my face got to do with it?” Zayn asks, looking over his shoulder to frown at Niall. “Am I meant to be doing something with my face?”

“Nothing you aren’t already doing,” Harry tells him, reaching up to cup Zayn’s cheek and force his attention back onto himself. “What Niall means is, well, you’re stupidly hot. So it doesn’t even matter if you’re the worst thief in the history of thieves because you can just smile at someone and send them into a confused daze of lust or appreciation or whatever. So if in panic, just smile, okay?”

“That’s shit advice,” Zayn tells him flatly.

Harry just grins at him and shrugs carelessly. “I don’t make the rules, Zayn. That’s just life.”

“His face is ridiculous,” Niall says next to him, low enough that the others can’t hear. “Bressie would be calling me every night if he knew what Zayn looked like.”

“Is he possessive then?” Liam asks. The mysterious Bressie honestly fascinates Liam. Mostly because he doesn’t understand how anyone could be with Niall and not want to be attached to him all the time. Niall’s just the kind of person who radiates light and sunshine and yet Liam’s perfectly aware that Niall has the filthiest sense of humour of any of them. It’s a heady combination.

“Nope,” Niall says with a grin. He slides his free arm around Liam’s shoulders and squeezes. “But you know. Zayn’s face.”

“Zayn’s face,” Liam agrees. It’s a compelling argument. He's by far the most beautiful person Liam’s ever met, male or female. It’s barely a competition. And yet his gaze strays to Zayn’s left where Harry’s standing with his arse slightly angled towards Zayn, his wallet temptingly peeking out of his back pocket. When Liam realises he’s just staring at Harry’s very nice, cute arse in his skinny dark jeans, he flushes and fumbles his mug for a second before righting it and focusing his eyes somewhere past Zayn’s left shoulder.

“Alright there Payno?” Niall nudges him carefully. When Liam glances over, Niall’s got a speculative look on his face, his eyebrows creasing together as he studies Liam’s guilty-looking expression.

“Fine,” Liam insists, perhaps a bit brighter and louder than he means to. “Everything’s fine. Tell me about Bressie then. Where did you meet?”

“Back home,” Niall says in a dreamily sort of voice that comes as a bit of a surprise to Liam if he’s being honest. Until now, he’d have sworn Niall was the very antithesis of a romantic but his eyes have gone soft and he’s smiling, lost in a memory. “Fancied him like mad growing up. I tried to be cool about it of course but everyone knew. Me dad teased me all the time. But Brez was really nice about it. Not that he was around all that much because he went away to uni and stuff. But when he was home he’d always make time for me, you know? Make sure I was alright. Taught me to play the guitar. God, I was stupid over him.” Niall turns to Liam and cackles. “Still am. When I turned 21, I had a big party and the whole town turned up. I was drunk and plastered myself to Brez whenever I could. Totally shameless. Eoghan laughed at me all fucking night but I didn’t care. I just wanted to like, _climb_ him, you know? But he just patted my shoulder and gently pushed me away. I was pretty devastated.”

Liam doesn’t know why he reaches for Niall’s hand where it's resting comfortably over Liam’s shoulder because he knows it ends happily but some part of him aches for Niall and that feeling of rejection. He rubs his thumb gently over the back of Niall’s hand and lets his head drop onto Niall’s shoulder just for a moment.

“I woke up with the worst hangover,” Niall says with a wince. “Felt like I was dyin'. Except when I looked around my room, wondering how I managed to get home in one piece, Brez was there, sprawled out on the floor. No mattress, no cover, just Bressie in his pants, looking like a fucking model. It was so unfair.”

“You poor thing,” Liam says with a grin.

“I know. So I did the only thing I could, which was to roll out of bed right onto him and I kissed his stupid face. When he woke up, he was kissing me back and calling me a right eejit, muttering something about me being too young or some shit.”

“You convinced him though,” Liam says. He’s a firm believer in Niall’s ability to talk himself into and out of anything he wants. It’s a skill Liam admires, even if he doesn’t really covet it himself.

“I mean, there were handjobs,” Niall says, and his eyes shine at the memory of what Liam assumes were great handjobs, judging by the radiance of Niall’s grin. “And guilt and Bressie came back over to England and Eoghan yelled at both of us. It wasn’t pretty for a while.” Niall’s grin fades for a moment before he shakes his head clear. “Then I moved over here, not to follow him or anything but yeah. A week later he was at my door looking more miserable than I felt. Been together ever since.”

Liam gets the impression that Niall’s skating over a lot of stuff, but he doesn’t push. “Is he visiting soon then?" he asks carefully. Maybe they'll get to meet this mysterious Bressie, if Niall lets him out of Niall's bed.

"A few weeks." Niall looks a bit morose at the thought. "He's still got a bit of a hang-up about my age, although he'd never admit it. Doesn't stop him shagging me senseless though."

"You'll convince him," Liam says confidently while he very firmly blocks _that_ mental image from his mind. He turns his head to find Harry showing Zayn his sleight of hand tricks. Liam's caught by the fluid twists and turns Harry's hands make as Zayn tries to concentrate and mimic the movements. Harry's hands are big, bigger than Liam's, and his fingers are long and graceful beneath the chunky rings Harry seems to favour. Liam wonders if he keeps the rings on even when he's out stealing from people's pockets.

There's a tiny cross tattooed on his left hand and Liam's seen Harry stroking it absently with his thumb when he folds his hands together. He's not sure Harry's really aware he's doing it, but Liam's noticed. And Liam's noticed just how much stuff Harry can hold in each hand with his fingers splayed wide. It's caused Liam some discomfort that usually has to be relieved by Liam stumbling into the loos and jerking off at the thought of Harry's long, wide, graceful fingers sliding into Liam while his other hand pins Liam down effortlessly.

"Oh, it's like that then is it?" Niall says thoughtfully, jarring Liam out of his daydream with a start. His cheeks burn bright red and Liam stares at his boots and wishes he was anywhere but here.

"No," Liam says quickly. Too quickly perhaps because his throat is too dry and it comes out hoarse and desperate. "Of course not."

It doesn't even occur to him to pretend that he doesn't know what Niall's suggesting.

"Hey, it's alright," Niall says, his voice dropping to a whisper as he curls himself around Liam, who turns his heated face into Niall's neck and grabs at Niall's shirt to anchor himself a little. "There's no need to be embarrassed, Liam."

"I'm not embarrassed." And he's not. Really. So he fancies boys as well as girls. He happens to think he's got great taste because Harry is gorgeous and funny and maybe he's a bit strange and he tells the _worst_ jokes, but most of all, Harry's nice. Liam really, really appreciates that in a person. And he's not embarrassed in the way Niall seems to be suggesting. But he does have concerns. Lots of concerns. "I don't think he likes me that way," Liam blurts out. Niall shoots him a surprised look but Liam can't seem to shut himself up. "He's never like- I think he likes Louis anyway. I mean, who wouldn't, right? Louis' great. And Harry's great. They'd be great together."

"Uh," Niall says before he pauses like he's considering his words carefully, which just makes Liam feel worse because he's clearly trying not to hurt Liam's feelings. Which means Liam's right, and he'd kind of half been hoping that Niall would argue with him. "Nope. I don't think Harry's into Louis, Liam. And Louis' not into Harry. Not like that."

Liam just shrugs, resigned. "They're always together. And they're all over each other. There's definitely something between them."

Niall gives him a funny look. "Liam. Have you ever thought that maybe Harry might think there's something going on between _you_ and Louis? You're together as much as Harry and Louis are. Practically inseparable you two, sometimes."

Liam frowns as he instinctively starts to shake his head. "No we're not. We're just, like, trying to be mates. Like the rest of you. It's harder with Louis."

"Harder to start with maybe," Niall allows. He lets his gaze wander over towards Zayn and Harry, who seem to have abandoned pickpocketing skills for the moment. They're on the floor and Harry's half-sprawled over Zayn and seems to be poking at his cheek for some reason. Zayn seems to mostly be ignoring him but his hand is flat on Harry's back and he's not pushing him away. "But you're thick as thieves now. Pun intended. Maybe it's stopped being hard and you just forgot to notice."

Before Liam can answer, there's a loud squawk that turns their heads. Zayn's got Harry in a headlock and he's messing up Harry's hair while Harry's giggling and trying to escape.

"Liam! Help me!" Harry yells, muffled where his face is pressed into Zayn's chest. "Zayn's picking on me!"

"He deserves it!" Zayn yells before he tugs Harry's bandana off and Harry lets out a squeal of laughter.

"Just think about it, Liam," Niall says when Liam moves to stand up. "And take it from me, don't waste time. If Harry's the one you want, tell him. You might be surprised."

Liam lets out a long, shaky breath but he nods at Niall and reaches out to ruffle his hair, much to Niall's pretend disgust, before he steps over to where Harry's batting at Zayn's hands ineffectively to just haul Harry up and away from Zayn, who grins up a little maniacally at them.

"We need to hit the gym," Liam says as he keeps his hold on Harry's waist while Harry finds his feet. "Work on your stamina. You're gonna need your strength for Louis' plan to work."

When Harry's hands wander up Liam's arms to squeeze his biceps playfully, Liam lets his gaze drop to Harry's mouth very deliberately. He doesn't miss the way Harry slowly licks his lips or how Harry's fingers bite harder into his muscles. Maybe Niall's right, Liam thinks as he manages a small, shy smile for Harry who looks back at him with a slightly bemused look that Liam can't decipher right now.

"Jesus fucking Christ they're making out!"

They all spin around to where Niall's pointing at the screen and oh god. Louis and Nick are totally making out in an empty corridor. Nick's got Louis tucked up against the wall, his body shielding Louis almost entirely from view except for where Louis' hands are tangled in Nick's hair where it looks like Louis' deliberately trying to wreak havoc. But there are definitely tongues in mouths and bodies grinding on each other.

"I can't look away," Zayn mutters, and he sounds like he's in pain.

"That looks ... painful," Harry murmurs.

"This is so wrong," Liam says as he leans over Harry and Zayn to get a better look.

"This is fucking _ace_!" Niall spins around to face them all with a lopsided smile that belies the pure evil Liam can see behind his eyes. "Louis' gonna _cry_."

*

They’re all at the gym bright and early in the morning at Liam’s insistence, although Zayn’s trying his best to sleep on Louis’ shoulder and Niall’s eyeing up the treadmill with suspicion. Liam feels oddly proud of his little place though as they stand in a line in the otherwise-empty equipment room.

“The name sucks,” Louis announces. He flicks Liam’s ear for good measure.

Liam flushes and manages a shrug as he realises just how right Niall was the day before. He’s figured Louis out and it _has_ stopped being hard work trying to be Louis’ mate. It’s easy, in fact. The easiest thing in the world. Which is why he pokes Louis in the side and grins at Louis’ yelp before he moves to face them.

“Stamina,” he says bluntly. “You need it, and fast. You also need to work on your core strength, so there’ll be an hour of cardio every morning, followed by at least twenty minutes of weights and half an hour of yoga.”

He ignores Zayn’s sleepy groan.

“No more than twenty minutes on any one machine, and try to use at least different four machines to increase your overall fitness,” Liam calls as they scatter through the room. Niall heads for the rowing machine, flexing his arm muscles as he goes.

“For Bressie and sex,” Liam hears him mutter fiercely to himself as he passes by.

Louis and Zayn head for the bikes and Liam can hear Louis giving Zayn a quiet pep talk that Zayn’s frowning at.

Harry appears by his side, beaming and using his head to gesture towards the treadmills. “Race you?” he offers, belying the competitive streak Liam knows is hiding behind his easy smile.

“You’re on,” Liam tells him and leads the way to the machines. He programmes Harry’s treadmill before matching it on his own. “No slacking this time though, you’re going to push yourself.”

“Technically you’re going to push me,” Harry says as he stares at the jagged slope Liam’s programmed in. “You’re a sadist, you know that right?”

Liam’s about to protest when he catches the look on Harry’s face. He swallows back whatever he’d been about to say and concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other as the treadmill warms up because his legs feel a little unsteady.

“I mean, if you’re into it, that’s okay,” Harry tells him easily and Liam’s belly twists painfully. “Nothing to be ashamed of there, Liam. We’ve all got our kinks, right?”

Except that Liam doesn’t. Or at least, none that he knows of. His past adventures in the bedroom have been, well, unadventurous. So he stares down at his screen and puts one foot in front of the other, carefully ramping up the incline until he’s pushing himself hard enough that his lungs start to burn and all he can think about is the rhythmic pulse of his own footfall.

“Liam!”

Liam blinks as a hand comes down over his controls and slows his speed down to a walk. He knows that hand, he thinks blearily.

“I thought we were racing fair,” Harry says, his tone mild but Liam can hear the concern underneath. “Or was that you showing off, huh?”

“No,” Liam stammers, his breath catching as he tries to drag air into his lungs. “Sorry.”

Harry lets it go to Liam’s relief and they head over to the bikes where Liam lets Harry set their programmes to something easy and they cycle in silence together, their strides evenly matched.

By the time they reach the weights, Liam’s head has cleared and he doesn’t let Harry try too much, too soon.

“But you’re lifting more,” Harry whines. He’s sprawled out over the bench, his legs parted wide as he stares up Liam with a pout.

“I’m used to lifting, you’re not,” Liam says, his words a bit shorter than he means to. He just can’t stop drifting off into thoughts about what Harry’s particular brand of kink or kinks might be, and now he’s got the added visual of Harry on a weight bench, which is the last thing he needs right now with his frustration close to spilling out.

"Show me then," Harry says, sitting up and sliding towards the end of the bench. "C'mon Liam. Show me those muscles."

"Uh," Liam hesitates. He's lifted in this gym a million times before and not even spared a moment to think about whether anyone's watching him or not, but this is Harry and Liam feels self-conscious in a way he never normally does. It's unsettling but not really surprising at this point. He's slowly coming to terms with his ridiculous crush on Harry.

"Come on," Harry cajoles and he slides all the way off the bench and onto his feet. "What do you lift?"

Liam reluctantly points to his weights and takes a moment of selfish pride to enjoy the way Harry's eyes widen at the total weight before he's bending down to lift the weights into place.

"You'll have to spot me." Liam shuffles down and gets himself ready. He lets his hands wrap comfortably around the weight and he plants his feet in position, bracing himself. After a deep breath, he brings the weight down over his chest and exhales as he pushes up until his arms straighten. He lifts until his arms feel the burn and Harry appears above him. He's got his hands out ready to take the weight and Liam lets him, letting out a low sigh as he sits up and stretches his muscles out.

"Wow," Harry murmurs, his voice low enough to send shivers over Liam's damp skin. Goosebumps appear and he rubs at his arms.

“Bet all those muscles and stamina come in handy in bed,” Harry says under his breath but not so quiet that Liam doesn’t hear it. His stomach roils again and he takes an unconscious step back.

“I uh, I’ve gotta, uh, go,” Liam mumbles, his hand brushing over the cool metal of the weight on the bars before he darts for the door. He hears Harry calling his name but he doesn’t stop until he’s in his office and slamming the door shut behind him. Liam leans back against the solid wood and slides down to the cool floor, hugging his knees to his chest as he holds himself tight.

Stupid, he thinks in frustration when he's calmed down a bit. Banter, that’s all it is to Harry and he has to go and blow it all out of proportion because of some stupid insecurity he has.

Liam just about has enough time to work himself into a state of terror and he doesn't even want to think about going out and facing Harry and trying to explain the whole 'hiding in his office' fiasco when there's a knock at the door.

Fuck.

"Liam?"

With slow movements, Liam gets to his feet and unlocks the door, moving towards the leather chair he'd indulged himself in a few months ago once the business had started to actually turn a profit.

Zayn steps into the office and closes the door quietly behind him. He gracefully drops into the only other chair in the office and leans back, making himself comfortable before he finally glances up at Liam and offers him an easy smile.

"Harry thinks he's upset you but he doesn't know why," Zayn says. Liam can hear the mild tone of curiosity.

"He hasn't upset me."

"Do you know you're terrible at lying?" Zayn asks kindly. Liam slumps down in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he kicks at the desk leg in frustration. A shrug is the best he can manage. "If he said something out of line, then just-"

"No, course he hasn't," Liam says quickly, his body jack-knifing upright in his chair. "It's me. I'm just, like, I don't know how to deal with Harry sometimes."

Zayn reaches over to cover Liam's hand with his own. There's a tattoo covering the back of his hand that Liam's always found fascinating and he watches as the tattoo moves with Zayn's skin, creating a pattern that's almost dazzling.

"Harry can be a lot to handle," Zayn says slowly, like he's feeling his way around the conversation. "But he's not all that hard to figure out, I think."

"He is," Liam says before he drops his head onto his folded arms on the desk. "I think I want to kiss him."

There's a long enough pause to make Liam's heart hammer loudly in his chest. "I don't think Harry would be adverse to that, Liam," Zayn says cautiously.

Liam doesn't think so either but he can't be sure. And that's a thing he'll have to deal with, eventually. "I've never kissed a boy before, Zayn," he confesses quietly. "What if I'm shit at it?"

"Why would you be shit at it?" Zayn asks, sounding baffled. "It's the same as kissing girls, you idiot."

"No, that's not like, not what I mean," Liam says. He pushes away from the desk and stands up, desperately wanting to pace but his office is hardly big enough for two decent paces lengthwise. He ends up folding his arms around his belly defensively and staring at the picture he'd hung on the wall of the day he'd bought this place, his grin wide as his mum had snapped away. "I mean. I don't think I'm very good at kissing girls either."

Zayn blinks at that. "Who told you that?"

"No one," Liam says quickly, regretting the confession already. He really should learn to keep his mouth shut and stop saying everything that filters through his brain.

"Liam." Zayn's staring at him in concern and Liam starts pacing. If he takes tiny steps he can stretch it out to three paces across, apparently. "Liam, what are you talking about?"

"I've had two girlfriends," Liam mutters. "I've kissed four girls. Ever. They were all very nice."

He catches Zayn's confused look as he turns to continue pacing.

"That's, uh, nice?" Zayn offers.

"Maybe I don't want nice," Liam says and his cheeks flush at the confession but he doesn't duck away from it. "I mean. No, of course I want nice. But passion. Passion's important, right?"

"Yeah," Zayn says. His voice has softened. Like he's starting to understand.

"I don't know that I have that," Liam says and he drops back into his chair. He stares at Zayn and he feels a bit sick at the admission but Zayn's his mate. And he's meant to talk to his mates about his feelings and worries, or at least he thinks he is. "My exes, I mean, they liked sex. Or I think they did. But it was never like. Sex on the kitchen counter or in the shower just because. It was just. Normal."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Liam," Zayn tells him in that same gentle tone. "But I think Harry probably wants to maybe get his hand on your dick, regardless of where you are. Although I'm vetoing the warehouse right now, okay? But I've seen the way he watches you Liam, and he'd probably blow you in the shower. Or the kitchen. Or wherever else you'd let him, to be honest."

The thought makes Liam squirm a little in his chair. "I don't know," he says finally.

"Just think about it," Zayn says, getting to his feet and waiting for Liam to step around the table before he envelops him in a hug. Liam tucks his head down into Zayn's shoulder and drags in an unsteady few breaths before he moves back and offers Zayn a weak smile. "Let's go. The longer we stay in here, the more Harry will freak out."

There's a weight that settles over him as Liam pushes the office door open. When he steps into the gym and breathes in the smell of sweat and heated bodies, he finds Harry easily enough on the weight bench he'd left him on. A quick glance tells him that Louis and Niall are playfighting across the other side of the room and he feels Zayn move behind him towards the boys, giving him and Harry some space.

He approaches Harry slowly, still sorting through the jumbled thoughts circling his mind. Liam drops down almost carelessly opposite Harry so their knees are almost touching and he lets his elbows rest easily on his thighs. Harry mirrors him.

"Everything okay?" Harry asks finally when Liam doesn't say anything because words keep getting stuck in his dry throat.

"I can spot you," is what Liam manages to say. Harry's eyebrows raise in surprise and Liam waves his hand towards the abandoned weights on the floor. "Build up your stamina."

"Yeah," Harry says, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as he looks at Liam with confusion. "My stamina could definitely use some work."

Harry's knee bumps against his very deliberately but he doesn't say anything more, which Liam's grateful for. He reaches over to squeeze Harry's thigh gently before he gets to his feet and busies himself getting the weights in place for Harry.

"Ready?" he asks when he looms over Harry, who's back in position on the weight bench.

"Yeah," Harry says as he lifts his hands into place. "I'm trusting you not to let me die, Liam. Don't let me down."

Liam flashes him a grin that drifts into a laugh when Harry picks the weight up and starts a steady stream of curses that would make most people blush and Liam's eyebrows raise in surprise because of all of them, Harry curses the least.

"Keep it down boys, some of us are trying to find inner peace over here," Louis yells, cutting through Harry's impressive swearing.

Liam glances up to find the three of them sitting in various stages of the lotus pose - only Zayn's managed the full pose while Louis is mostly hugging his knees and grinning at Liam and Niall's about to fall over trying to put his leg - well, Liam's not entirely sure where exactly Niall's trying to put his leg.

"Zayn in zen," Niall says before he bursts into laughter and he topples back onto the floor, his arm flying out to take Louis down with him.

"Did they find it?" Harry asks through gritted teeth, bringing Liam's attention back down to him.

"Just Zayn," Liam tells him. He takes in Harry's flexed biceps, gleaming with sweat and making his tattoos seem even more striking than usual. He maybe wants to lick them. "Louis and Niall are rolling around on the floor fighting."

Harry huffs out a laugh that makes him lose balance and Liam grabs the weight before it topples out of Harry's hands. "Thanks," Harry says gratefully when Liam pulls him up to his feet. They both turn to where Niall's got an indignant Louis in a headlock while Zayn's still in lotus pose, seemingly blissfully unaware of the carnage happening behind him. "Hey. Sorry about earlier, Liam."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Liam says with feeling.

"Well, alright. But if you want to talk about it, you can. With me, I mean. You can talk to me."

Liam clears his throat before he nudges his hip gently against Harry's. It's an apology and a thank you and a reluctant admission that he's an idiot all in one. Harry leans in and licks his cheek before he bounds away to pile on top of Louis and Niall.

Liam's not entirely sure what to do with that but he flicks his middle finger up at Zayn, who's opened his eyes and is making silly kissy faces at him.

And he very definitely does not run his thumb over his cheek where Harry's tongue had claimed him. At all.

*

The week passes in a blur of Liam training the boys in the gym, Zayn passing on all the information he's gathered from monitoring the museum and Louis furiously denying any involvement in Nick even though Zayn's caught them kissing twice more and even having coffee in the cafe once. Louis also completely denies playing footsie with Nick under the table and flushing when Nick whispered something to him, but Niall swears he saw it with his own eyes.

It's pretty amusing, all in all.

Liam's lying on the sofa, eyes closed as he listens to Niall and Harry debating the best strategy for getting the diamond off its holder when Zayn flops down next to him.

"Not talked to Harry then," Zayn says. "He's been quiet this week. Reckon he thinks you're still upset with him."

"We talked about it," Liam says, even though he knows they didn't. Not really, anyway. "Everything's fine."

"So you're totally cool that he's going out tonight with Louis and Niall then," Zayn says casually. Too casually, Liam realises and he opens his eyes to find Zayn watching him. "I heard Louis was planning to get Harry wasted and see if he can get Harry laid."

Liam tries not to bristle and fails miserably. He pulls himself up until he's sitting next to Zayn and his whole body feels tense and worried.

Zayn pats his leg once before he gets to his feet. "Hey Nialler, wanna come keep me company while I smoke?"

"Filthy habit," Niall says but he's getting to his feet too and following Zayn out of the door. It closes heavily behind him, leaving Liam and Harry by themselves and Liam's mind can't seem to settle on anything other than Harry in a club, kissing other girls. Or boys. Harry's hands sliding over someone else's skin. Harry's body wrapping itself around someone who's _not him_.

He's moving before he realises, stalking over towards Harry and yanking him to his feet. He barely registers Harry's surprise before Liam's taking a deep breath and screwing up his face, leaning in to press his cold, clammy lips to Harry's warm, soft mouth.

Liam pulls back almost immediately, his hands falling away from Harry's. Harry opens his eyes and stares at Liam for a long, drawn out moment before he grabs Liam's shoulders and tugs him in for another kiss. Liam twists his hands around the soft cotton of Harry's shirt as he tries to concentrate on what he's doing. He wants to make this good for Harry. He tilts his head and makes sure their noses don't press awkwardly against each other and he remembers to breathe and he keeps his eyes squeezed shut.

He's so busy concentrating on not fucking this up, since Harry's actually kissing him back to his amazement, that he doesn't realise for a few seconds that Harry's stopped kissing him.

Liam freezes, horribly aware that his face is still screwed up and his shoulders are hunched too high. He tentatively opens his eyes to Harry frowning at him and Liam wants to maybe die from embarrassment.

"Liam?" Harry murmurs, sounding throaty and unsure.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, aware that he's still got his hands wrapped around Harry's shirt but unwilling to let go. Not until Harry moves completely away from him. "I can do better. I promise. Just let me try again."

Harry's frown deepens. "Liam, what are you talking about?"

"You kept talking about how my strength must make me good in bed and my kinks and stuff and the truth is that I'm not that experienced," Liam says in one rushed breath. "I've never kissed a boy before and I've only kissed a few girls and I've only ever had sex with my two girlfriends and it was always in a bed with the lights off and I have no idea if I have any kinks or whether I could hold you up against a wall or how you even have sex against a wall, that's not a thing I've tried before although I want to. With you. If you want to. Oh god you don't want to, of course you don't want to."

"Liam, calm down," Harry says in what Liam supposes is a soothing tone of voice but he's too worked up to pay attention to it.

"I mean, I couldn't let you think that we'd have sex and it would be amazing because I think there's a very good chance that I suck at it and that's why my girlfriends weren't really into anything adventurous," Liam carries on miserably. It's like he has no brain to mouth filter and yet he can't stop. "But maybe you could teach me how to be amazing. If you wanted to. I mean, if you're not busy. And if you like me. Just because you kissed me back doesn't mean you like me like that so I'm mostly guessing here but I really don't want to be wrong."

Harry's hand covering his mouth is the only thing that stops Liam talking. The heat of Harry's touch shuts him up immediately and he blinks at Harry, his lips pressed against Harry's warm, vaguely rough palm.

Harry's frowning at him. "Liam, I'm sure you're great at sex," he says slowly. Liam really wants to kiss him again. "Have you had any complaints?"

Liam shakes his head. Harry's hand is still firmly cupped against his mouth.

"Then I think the only way we're going to get to the bottom of this is like, a demonstration," Harry tells him solemnly. He's fighting a grin and Liam doesn't resist the urge to lick Harry's hand, making Harry yelp and pull it away. Not that he goes far since Liam's still got his hands in Harry's shirt and he pulls him closer until Liam can press his nose into Harry's neck and breathe for a moment. Harry wraps himself around Liam and slots their hips together, which is when Liam realises that Harry's hard and he can't help the tiny noise that escapes his lips or the way his hands finally release Harry's shirt and flatten against his back, pressing them closer together.

"We should definitely go back to yours right now," Harry murmurs. "Because I'd really like to touch your dick and I think the lads will kill me if I do it here."

Liam's heart is racing, whether from excitement or nerves or a mix of both he's not sure. "Zayn vetoed sex in the warehouse," he mumbles into Harry's neck before he straightens himself out and takes a step back, fumbling in his pockets for his car keys.

"Zayn is a party pooper," Harry decides as he gives Liam a gentle shove towards the front door and rushes him towards his car. "I bet he never has sex up against a wall either."

"So have you had sex against a wall?" Liam asks when they're in his car and he's somehow managed to start the ignition. His hands are trembling and he's all worked up but it's a short drive to his and Harry definitely said something about getting his hands on Liam's dick so Liam focuses hard on driving and not on the identical bulge situation they're experiencing.

"Not full sex," Harry tells him cheerfully. "A few hand jobs and blowjobs. Fucking painful when your head jerks back. But I'm willing to give it a go. For you."

"You're a saint, Harry," Liam says dryly.

Harry beams at him and it's with relief that they don't talk for the rest of the drive home so Liam can concentrate on getting there in one piece without distraction. They both half-fall out of the car when Liam's parked and Harry's pressing into his side, his hand resting on Liam's arse as Liam half-walks, half-runs to the door and gets the key in the lock. It's not easy while Harry's pressing his half-hard dick against Liam's arse and his chest is plastered to Liam's back but he manages it and they stumble inside, Liam's keys dropping somewhere on the floor as Harry's hands move to Liam's arms and spin him around, the front door slamming behind them as Harry presses Liam against the wall and grins at him.

"Hi," he says brightly.

"I've never done this before," Liam says inanely. "With a boy, I mean. You're my first."

Harry's face lights up. "Yeah, you mentioned that before."

Liam spreads his legs a little further apart so Harry can slot easily between them. His hands reach up to slide into Liam's hair and Liam tentatively puts his hands on Harry's arse.

Harry brushes his nose against Liam's before he dips in to kiss him, letting their lips slide together slowly until Liam relaxes back against the wall. Kissing boys is a lot like kissing girls, Liam realises. Except Harry's taller and broader than anyone he's kissed before and his skin is rougher - not stubble-strewn exactly but not as soft and smooth as his exes either. And there's a very pressing difference right between their legs.

Harry's hands start to travel down, his thumbs brushing over Liam's cheeks and down, down to his neck. Liam's head tilts backwards as Harry's thumbs find his jaw and press down gently. Liam's lips part helplessly and Harry licks into his mouth, his fingers brushing over Liam's neck and driving him crazy. He lets out a low moan that makes Harry grin against his mouth before his tongue dips back in and Liam's totally lost.

He tries to focus. He really does. He can feel Harry's hands dropping down over his biceps, squeezing and stroking every inch of skin he can find before he smoothes his hands over Liam's shoulders.

Harry lets out a moan of his own that sends a shiver down Liam's spine and his hands slide up under Harry's shirt to press against the warm, smooth skin of Harry's arching back as he presses closer. Too many clothes, Liam thinks hazily. Not enough skin. Not enough of Harry's skin touching his own skin.

Harry's hands are moving again, stroking down his torso and making his stomach muscles quiver as Harry lets his nails scrape down over Liam's thin t-shirt, teasing and light until they settle on Liam's belt buckle.

Liam's hips arch up, a silent plea for Harry to _not stop_. Harry's tongue is still darting in and out of his mouth and Liam's slumped against the wall, not sure whether the wall is holding him up or Harry is at this point but all that strength Harry was eager to explore seems to have seeped out of Liam's body, leaving him weak and trembling, held between Harry's lean body and the wall.

"Please," he whispers, his voice breaking as he pleads for Harry to just touch him. His hands gather Harry's shirt into fists and pull up, breaking their kiss so he can tug Harry's shirt up over his head and let it fall to the floor. He's distracted by tattoos he's only seen in flashes and through loose, half buttoned clothes. Liam's barely aware that Harry's trying to get his own shirt off because he's reaching out, tracing Harry's butterfly with his index finger.

"Liam," Harry says, sounding both frustrated and breathless. "Lift your arms."

Liam reluctantly lets his finger trail away from Harry's body and he obediently lifts his arms so Harry can strip his top away but as soon as he's done, Liam's hands are grabbing for Harry's hips, his thumbs brushing over golden skin as he takes in the masterpiece that is Harry's body.

"So many tattoos," Liam murmurs. He wants to taste them all. He's not sure if that's weird.

It takes Harry digging his thumbs into the dip of Liam's hipbones to drag his attention back.

"Aggnnh." Liam arches his back and tilts his head as Harry's lips whisper against his neck, nibbling and sucking and seeking. Harry's hands slide down to his belt buckle again, making short work of undoing it and unsnapping the button before his long, clever fingers tug the zip down.

"Yeah?" Harry mumbles against his neck, his warm breath ghosting over sensitive skin that shivers as Liam nods, not trusting his voice to speak.

“Want you,” Liam says, reaching down to stroke his thumb over Harry’s jaw and rubbing the pad over Harry’s parted lips. “Don’t care where.”

Harry’s breath hitches and he turns his face into Liam’s hand for a moment like he’s steadying himself. “Right answer,” he whispers, letting his lips trail over Liam’s palm before he’s nudging Liam’s hand into his hair. Liam spreads his fingers and lets soft strands curl around them.

When Harry leans in close and nuzzles his face against Liam’s crotch, Liam thinks he might just come right then and there. His head is resting against the wall but he can see every move Harry makes. He can see Harry’s mouth moving against black cotton, mouthing against where Liam’s dick is straining in his pants. Liam slides his hand through Harry’s hair until he’s cupping the back of his head, tilting Harry into a better position.

“Tell me what you want, Liam.” It comes out throaty and a little desperate and Liam rocks his hips forward without thought.

“Your mouth,” Liam says breathlessly. God, he wants Harry’s mouth. On him. Around him. Everywhere. Sinfully red, slick lips spread wide around his dick. Hungry for Liam.

Harry smiles beatifically at that. “Where?” he asks simply. His clever, long, graceful fingers tease at the waistband of his shorts, thumbs dipping below the elastic and pressing gently down against his hips.

"Anywhere," Liam groans. Harry's back to mouthing at his boxers, his tongue licking at his dick through the thin material. "Please."

He can hear Harry's warm laughter as he tugs Liam's boxers down, slow over his hips, so very slow as his dick springs free and slaps wetly against his belly. Slow as they glide down past his thighs and Harry leans in to nip gently at the sensitive reveal of skin. They fall down to the floor, forgotten as Harry's hands grip Liam's thighs and he trails kisses and hot, tiny breathes up Liam's legs. "Here?" Harry asks, amused.

"Maybe," Liam says, playing along.

Harry lets his mouth move up towards Liam's hipbone where he bites down harder, sucking skin as he marks Liam's skin. "Here?" he mumbles.

"Closer," Liam breathes.

Harry pulls back, taking in the bruise that's already flaring up on Liam's pale skin with a satisfied smile. He pushes his head back into Liam's hand and closes his eyes. Submitting, Liam thinks in wonder. Trusting, he realises and his heart flips before it starts pounding dangerously loudly against his ribs.

"Harry," Liam murmurs brokenly. Harry glances up at him through lowered lashes and he lets his mouth fall open, his head still tilted up in Liam's hold. "So beautiful," he manages as he curls his hand around the base of his own dick and squeezes gently, willing himself to calm down before he embarrasses himself. He gives himself a slow, easy stroke and watches as Harry's eyes fixate on his dick. "Yeah?" he asks, needing to hear Harry say it. Just once.

"Please," Harry says. His voice cracks and his tongue flicks out to lick his lips, but he doesn't look away from Liam's dick. He leans in and just inhales, making Liam's dick jerk in his hand.

It's all Liam needs and he guides himself between Harry's lips, gritting his teeth as he feels the warmth of Harry's mouth surround him, eager and wet.

With a hand still tangled in Harry's hair, he lets his other hand trace a path down to Harry's jaw and he lets his thumb press carefully against Harry's cheek where he's hollowed around Liam's dick before he curves around to hold Harry's neck gently.

Harry's tongue is wrapped around him and he sucks gently, his lips curving as much as they can around Liam's dick when Liam lets out a tiny whimper. His hands slide up to cup Liam's arse and he starts to move, sliding down Liam's dick and taking more into his mouth. He bobs slowly, taking Liam deeper each time until he's got Liam down his throat and Liam's barely holding onto consciousness. His toes are curled into the carpet and he's holding onto Harry just barely as Harry wrecks him with his clever, perfect mouth. Warm and willing, he sucks Liam down before letting him slide out and then repeats the move until Liam's breathing hard and making tiny noises, his hips pinned back against the wall by Harry's hands with a strength that both surprised Liam and made him want to struggle against it to see just how strong Harry was.

"Gonna come," Liam mutters. He's expecting Harry to move back because that's what he's used to but Harry just slides back, the tip of Liam's dick heavy on his tongue and he uses his hand to stroke Liam at the base as Liam trembles and feels his orgasm building. "Fuck. Fuck!"

He comes right into Harry's mouth, his legs shaking as Harry holds him up, strong and solid as Liam slumps back against the wall, his hands falling away from Harry as he struggles to catch his breath. All he wants to do is tumble into Harry and fall asleep on his chest, his hand flat on Harry's butterfly but he fights the web of lethargy, opening his eyes and dragging Harry up, up, up onto his feet, curiously pleased when Harry sways before he's pressing up against Liam, his dick hard in his jeans as he kisses Liam sloppily, his mouth wet and tasting of Liam. Liam chases the taste of them on Harry's tongue as he paws at Harry's jeans. Liam gets the zip down and he whines as Harry shoves the denim down, kicking the jeans to the floor between them. Liam won't let Harry move back as he keeps him pinned against him, kissing him with a desperation he can't shake.

"Your turn," he murmurs, repeating it against Harry's mouth over and over again as he tugs Harry's boxers down. "Your turn."

"No arguments from me," Harry says, laughing as he tips his head back and Liam fastens his lips onto Harry's neck, trailing kisses down to his collarbone and back up to his jaw line. His hand slides around Harry's waist and he spins them around so Harry's up against the wall. He traces a path around Harry's hips, ghosting over his laurel tattoo before he pauses, unsure.

"S'alright," Harry tells him. He looks soft and lazy, leaning back against the wall with his dick hard against his belly and his legs spread easily for Liam to step in between, if he wanted to. "Whatever you want, Liam. We can take this slow."

"No, I want to," Liam says fiercely. Harry's dick is nice-looking, he thinks. He's not really an expert unless it's his own dick, but it doesn't look too different from his own.

Liam's hand reaches out and he presses his index finger gently against the tip, smearing the precome pooling there.

"I don't think I'm ready for uh, my mouth," Liam says, feeling shy and curious as he traces his finger down Harry's shaft, pleased when Harry jerks under his touch. "Or sex."

Harry's hand closes around his, making a fist around his own dick. Liam's hand twitches but Harry keeps him from pulling away. "I'll teach you, if you want," Harry says, and his voice is _shot_. He moves their hands slowly and Liam groans silently at the feel of Harry throbbing in his hand. "And we'll take it slow, I promise."

"Slow," Liam echoes. "Slow sounds good." Slow sounds like they'll be doing this again. Maybe a few times. And Liam's so okay with that. So okay. More than okay. Delirious, perhaps. "But not too slow, right?"

He moves his hand awkwardly, trying to find the right angle to jerk Harry off. It's all wrong though, his wrist is bent all wrong and he thinks he's squeezing too tight and he starts to panic. He's too hot and flustered, his hand jerking clumsy and god he wants to _cry_.

"Like this," Harry murmurs, his hand covering Liam's again and he slows Liam's movements down, showing him how to twist his wrist and Liam quickly finds the right angle, the right rhythm, eager to please. He breathes slowly, watching Harry's face as he takes control and Harry's hand falls away. It's easier now, easier to swipe his thumb over Harry's slit and see Harry's face tighten as he arches into Liam's touch.

It's addictive.

Harry's warm and firm in his hand, throbbing as he pushes up into Liam's grip. "Fuck." Harry's eyes are closed and yet his face so open, with need and pleasure and _want_. "Fuck, Liam."

"You should come," Liam pants as he speeds up his strokes. "Yeah?"

Harry darts forward and kisses him, his tongue thrusting into Liam's mouth without finesse. It's too wet and too messy and it's perfect. Liam cups the back of Harry's head, keeping him right there while he jerks Harry between their bodies. He feels Harry tighten up, his body going rigid and he presses closer, twisting his hand and kissing Harry as he comes with a muffled whimper. He comes over their bellies, striping them both with hot, sticky come and Liam strokes him slowly through it until he whimpers again and Liam reluctantly lets go of Harry's dick with one last squeeze.

Harry falls forward against Liam and they stand there together, arms wrapped around each other. Liam's trying to remember how to breathe, he's sure he'll get the hang of it soon enough, and Harry's just draped over him, his arms loose over Liam's shoulders as Liam bears his weight.

"You should carry me to bed," Harry mutters finally. "I don't think my legs work."

"What makes you think mine do?" Liam says with a sigh. He's already wrapping his arms more firmly around Harry's waist, wincing at the mess between them.

"Gym," Harry mumbles. "Strong. Bed. Now."

Liam laughs softly. "Alright. Bridal or piggyback?"

"Koala," Harry counters, lifting his leg uselessly to Liam's hip. He sounds sex-sleepy, like he's about to doze off on Liam's shoulder right in Liam's hallway. Liam hooks his hand under Harry's thigh, his other hand sliding around Harry's waist.

"Up," he says softly. He gets a sweet, lazy kiss before Harry hops up and wraps his arms around Liam's waist. It takes Liam a second to get his balance and then he's heading up the stairs, desperately afraid he's going to drop Harry and they'll tumble to the floor in a tangle of broken limbs. But Harry tucks his head trustingly into Liam's neck and he gets them upstairs in one piece, although there was a scary moment of unbalance where Liam's hand had grabbed desperately at the rail and he'd clung for dear life.

He nudges his bedroom door open with his foot while Harry breathes deeply against his neck and he's definitely more than halfway to sleep. It takes all his strength to drop Harry gently on the bed before he disappears to the bathroom and cleans himself up. He takes a flannel out to clean Harry up, grinning when Harry wriggles sleepily away from the cold cloth. He dumps the flannel back in the sink and slips into bed, tugging at the covers until he can get them over Harry where he's sprawled like a starfish in the middle of the bed.

He curls up next to him and watches Harry for a few minutes, feeling stupidly happy.

"Creepy," Harry murmurs, opening an eye to look at Liam. He smiles though and reaches out to cover Liam's hand with his own. "M'gonna nap for a bit. Then I'm gonna teach you to blow me, if you want."

Liam shifts Harry until he's curled up against Liam's side, his head pillowed on Liam's shoulder. His arm is tucked underneath Harry and his hand on Harry's hip. "That sounds nice."

"Oh, it's going to be very nice. For me." Harry yawns and burrows in closer. "You're brilliant at sex. Zero complaints from me. Ten out of ten, would recommend, but m'not sharing. M'looking forward to that blowjob, Liam."

The thought of Harry's dick in his mouth is making his own dick twitch with interest. But he's about as tired as Harry is, so he closes his eyes and tangles his fingers with Harry's.

"Thanks," he mumbles. Harry kicks his ankle gently and Liam yawns again before he falls into a blissful sleep.

*

  
They stumble back into the warehouse in the late evening at Liam’s insistence. As a compromise, Liam had graciously allowed Harry to shower with him where they’d practiced Liam holding Harry up against a wall while Harry clung to him like a limpet. The hand jobs had been messy but incredibly satisfying, and put Harry in such a good mood that he hadn’t minded all that much about heading back to the warehouse.

Even if Harry had kissed Liam senseless just outside, pressed back against the car while Harry spent a good five minutes rutting up against him and presses sloppy kisses on any part of Liam’s face or neck that he could reach.

Liam’s pretty sure that he’s got hickeys. Lots of hickeys. Hickeys that clearly state ‘Harry was here’. Not that he minds all that much; he’s never really had hickeys before and a tiny part of him really likes the possessive brand of Harry on his skin.

He steps into the warehouse with Harry’s hands grabbing at his hips, making him huff out a laugh when he comes to an abrupt halt and Harry crashes into his back, knocking them both off balance before he reaches back to steady them both with a hand to Harry’s back.

Zayn’s lying on the floor, head down and tucked between his folded arms. He’s humming. Loudly.

“He’s healing,” Niall calls from the kitchen area.

“Healing from what?” Liam asks. Harry’s tucking his hands in the waistband of Liam’s jeans and Liam witnesses the exact moment Niall notices. There’s raised eyebrows but Niall doesn’t say a word.

“Tea?” Niall offers, waving the kettle around. When Harry and Liam both nod, Niall grabs two more cups and pours them out. “Zayn, you want tea?”

The humming gets louder.

“He’s being a baby,” Niall says when he moves towards them and hands their tea over. Harry pulls his hands back from Liam to take his mug with a put-upon sigh. “I see you two sorted yourselves out.”

“Liam’s got great hands,” Harry tells him dreamily. Liam flushes and puts his hand over Harry’s mouth, wincing when Harry just licks his palm happily. “ _Great_ fingers, Niall.”

“I’m so pleased for you,” Niall says dryly. He turns to Liam and pulls him in for a one arm cuddle, patting his back and Liam feels so ridiculously happy. “Congratulations on your fingers, mate. I told you Harry’d like ‘em.”

“Harry does like them. A lot!” Harry calls over his shoulder. He’s wandering towards Zayn slowly and he sinks down beside him and reaches out to stroke his hair. “What did you do to him then?”

Zayn moans loudly and turns his head to look up at Harry with a truly pathetic-looking expression.

“He might have walked in on something,” Niall says with a careless shrug. When Liam just looks at him, Niall grins. “Okay, so maybe I thought he’d take longer grabbing lunch from town so I Skyped Brez.”

“Naked,” Zayn yells, making Liam jump in surprise. “You Skyped Bressie _naked_!”

“Haven’t seen my boy in months, Zayn, gotta take advantage of every minute we can,” Niall whines.

“Not in this warehouse!” Zayn groans and hides his head in his arms again.

Liam’s gaze flickers over to Harry, who looks pensive. “So does this mean Liam and I can have sex in here then?” he says eventually.

Zayn starts humming. Really loudly.

“I mean, since Niall’s already broken the no sex in the warehouse rule,” Harry continues blithely.

“There was a rule?” Niall asks in surprise. “What a shit rule.”

“I know!” Harry says. “Think of all the hand jobs and blowjobs I’d be missing out on if I couldn’t corrupt Liam into a few quickies.”

“Overshare!” Zayn’s muffled voice shouts. Harry pets his hair soothingly.

“It’s harness day tomorrow,” Liam says idly into the following silence, taking pity on Zayn's plight. He’s had delivery of all the equipment and they’ve already tried everything on, so there’s just the small matter of actually practicing dropping from a harness so that they can get into the museum. It’s why he’s been pushing everyone to work on their stamina because it’s not simply a case of strapping the harness on and dropping to the ground.

Zayn lets out a groan that sounds like he might be dying. Harry glances up and catches Liam’s eye. He gives him a beaming smile that has Liam smiling stupidly back at him.

Later on, when Louis returns from the museum with a suspiciously red face that looks a lot like stubble burn and a hickey on his neck and news that the diamond has arrived at the museum, Harry sneaks up behind Liam and drops easily into his lap. Liam’s hands come up to steady him because Harry has a habit of forgetting how big he is.

“You’re taking me home later,” Harry tells him around a yawn. He wraps his arms around Liam’s shoulders and burrows into the curve of his neck, his breath warm and ticklish against Liam’s skin.

Liam’s hand moves up to the curve of Harry’s spine and presses him a little closer. He knows he’s dazzled by Harry and he’s in danger of falling for him when they haven’t even discussed what, exactly, they are yet. But he can’t help grabbing at what Harry offers him with both hands, eager for whatever he can get. “Okay.”

“We can play exchange the blowjob,” Harry says, sounding far too sleepy for sexual favours. He’s adorable though, folding himself up like he’s trying to be small and Liam can’t help but stroke his hand through Harry’s hair and murmur soothing noises.

In the end, he does take Harry home. There’s no blowjobs but he curls up around Harry and buries his face into the back of Harry’s neck and they eventually drift off to sleep.

*

Liam discovers the beauty of morning blowjobs, of waking up to Harry’s mouth around his dick and bright, laughing green eyes watching him as Liam jerks awake and arches into Harry’s mouth in one impressive movement.

And afterwards, Liam gets his first blowjob lesson that escalates much faster than either of them anticipate. Liam goes from learning that he loves the feel of Harry in his mouth to learning that Harry gets incredibly vocal when he’s getting blown. Which leads to Harry accidentally fucking into Liam’s mouth when he gets overexcited and even though Liam gags and Harry tries to pull back with a breathless apology on his lips, Liam keeps him in place and stares up at Harry, eyes streaming and mouth slick with too much saliva and he pleads silently.

Harry comes down Liam’s throat with a sharp cry and Liam can’t speak for almost an hour while Harry covers his body in soft kisses and ushers him into the shower, insisting on soaping Liam up carefully and washing his hair for him.

Liam’s pretty sure he’s falling in love with Harry even though it’s too soon and he’s an absolute idiot. But he doesn’t care, not when Harry slips into Liam’s clothes and makes toast for them, cutting Liam’s into triangles and dropping an absent kiss on Liam’s head before he slides into a chair next to them and they eat in silence, knees brushing up against each other as they watch cartoons together.

*

Liam’s got them all strapped into their harnesses and they’re all hanging a foot off the floor while Liam checks their weight distribution.

“Fucking uncomfortable mate,” Niall mutters, his hand on his crotch as he looks pained.

“I like it,” Harry announces. He’s currently swinging on his wire and with his long legs, he can just about poke Louis with his toes.

Louis is not happy about this.

“You like being all tied up?” Liam jokes weakly.

Harry’s eyes light up though and his hands go to his harness over his chest, fingers stroking the black material softly. Liam’s mouth is suddenly too dry and he has a sudden vision of Harry being handcuffed to his bed, or maybe tied up with Harry’s own bandanas.

“Ugh,” Louis grumbles. “You two are disgusting.”

“I’m sure Nick would be really into tying you up,” Zayn says sleepily. His eyes are half-closed and Liam had actually thought he was asleep. “Maybe gagging you too. Bet he’d be really into that.”

“He loves my mouth too much,” Louis says smugly. Then his expression changes to something more pained and follows it with a resigned sigh. “Oh shut up.”

When Liam moves between each of them to check tensile strength, Harry reaches out to grab Liam and cling to him like a monkey. “We should do that. Being tied up. Later.”

“With these,” Liam murmurs, leaning in close and stroking his thumb over the pale green silk bandana that’s keeping Harry’s hair out of his eyes.

Harry makes a choking sound. Liam grins a little smugly because he's learning just how to shock and amuse Harry.

“I’ve created a monster,” Harry announces, sounding terribly pleased about it.

It takes another hour or so for the boys to master the wires and for Niall to finally feel comfortable in his harness. Louis' perfected forward and backward rolls on his wire and Zayn's the best at controlling his body while suspended.

They've all learned to stay well out of Harry's way while he's on a wire. He's kicked Louis in the ribs and almost taken Niall's eye out.

When they’re done and Liam’s packed everything away, he takes the tea Louis offers him and falls down into the chair next to Zayn and rests his head on Zayn’s bony shoulder.

“Tomorrow night then,” Niall says. He sounds both excited and terrified, which is about where Liam is with almost everything in his life right now.

"Everything's gonna be fine," Louis says, clearly picking up on Niall's nerves. "We've got everything we need, thanks to Zayn's cameras and his hacking. Plus there's all the info Harry and Niall have stolen from Nick's office while I've been sacrificing myself to distract him."

There's a lot of scoffing and laughter at that but Louis just ploughs through like he hasn't heard them. "We've got everything we could possibly need. It's gonna be a piece of cake. We're gonna stroll in, grab that baby and be tucked up at home in bed before they even notice anything's gone."

Liam's learned a few things about Louis. He's messy. He loves tea more than anything. He's got a thing for tall hipsters with dark, weirdly styled hair, who like to hang out at museums. He's also incredibly good at sounding confident, even if he's not. And he can convince anyone to do anything he wants them to do.

"Yeah," he says. He's not convinced himself because this isn't his first heist. And he knows better than anyone that a guard who stops for a random snack or to check a noise not even made by them can fuck everything up. But Harry and Niall and Zayn need that confidence or something definitely will go wrong. And Liam needs them to be on their game so that he doesn't risk losing everything tomorrow night.

His gaze slides helplessly over towards Harry, who's got his head in Louis' lap where Louis is idly playing with his curls and his feet tucked under Niall's thigh.

"Lou mate, you and Nick though," Zayn says quietly. Louis' hand stills in Harry's hair and he frowns up towards them. "Is it still part of the plan? Or something else?"

"I know what I'm doing," Louis says with a finality that suggests he's not expecting an argument.

Zayn gives a small shrug because it's not really an answer but it's the only one Louis seems prepared to give and they settle into silence, lost in their own private thoughts

*

In the early hours of the morning, Liam learns that he's definitely into Harry being tied up. Or more accurately, they're both into Harry being tied up. And when Harry comes untouched for the first time, Liam's torn between disbelief and the need to do it again. The second time Harry comes, it's on Liam's fingers. For the first time. As Harry talks him through it in broken, wrecked breaths. Harry returns the favour by deepthroating Liam before he curls up in Liam's lap, worn out and desperately clingy, falling asleep on Liam's broad chest.

*

Liam wakes up to Harry's open mouth plastered against his shoulder. It's somehow both cute and a bit gross because his shoulder is wet.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles without opening his eyes. He does close his mouth though.

"Morning babe," Liam whispers, turning to rub his shoulder against the sheets and amused when Harry merely shifts onto him.

"Big day today," Harry says. His eyes are still closed but he's tracing a pattern on Liam's bicep. "Biiiiig day."

"Yeah, it is," Liam agrees. The silence wraps around them, warm and gentle as they breathe in sync and Liam finds a peace he's rarely found before in his 24 years.

He enjoys it for a few more minutes before he flips a startled Harry onto his back and jumps out of bed, ignoring Harry's loud, vocal protests. He's got Harry up on his shoulder in the next move, laughing as he slaps Harry's naked arse gently and manoeuvres them through to his bathroom, placing Harry carefully in the shower and switching on the water, not bothering to hide his grin when Harry yelps at the burst of cold water that drenches him before the water turns hot and Liam steps in behind him.

"You're such a dick," Harry grumbles, his arms winding around Liam's neck and tugging him forward for a kiss.

"Shower sex is on my list," Liam says between kisses, his hands reaching blindly behind Harry to find cool, wet tiles and he crowds Harry back against them.

He actually does have a list. It exists. It's on his iPad where Harry named it Liam and Harry's Sexual Bucket List. Shower sex is right there between public sex and roleplaying. Liam mostly likes it because it suggests a longevity to this, whatever it is between them. They have _plans_. Future plans. Future planned _orgasms_.

Just the thought has Liam ducking his head to suck a huge, obnoxious hickey into Harry's shoulder, right above a date tattoo that they haven't gotten round to discussing yet. He bites down, his tongue pressing against wet, slippery skin. He wants to mark Harry as his and the thought scares Liam a little. Liam presses tiny kisses against the already purpling mark and nuzzles his head into Harry's shoulder, embarrassed.

"Biting is new," Harry says. His hands are roaming over Liam's back, pressing in against muscle and soothing quiet aches that Liam barely even notices anymore. "I like it."

Liam loves this about Harry. He loves that Harry will just tell him exactly what he likes and doesn't like. Admittedly, he's liked everything so far and has proven to be an enthusiastic and willing participant in all the fantasies Liam's admitted to so far. But Liam likes that he knows exactly where he stands with Harry. The lack of games, unless they're kinky, sexy games, is refreshing and just makes Liam even crazier about Harry.

"When we added shower sex, I thought we'd do it in the gym after a hot and sweaty workout," Harry says. His hand ghosts down Liam's back and he arches into Harry's body, pressing him harder against the tiles. Harry's hand settles on Liam's arse, giving it a squeeze that makes Liam groan just a little as his hips shift and he ruts helplessly against Harry. "Maybe as a reward for doing a long, hard workout and watching you work up a sweat and show off those biceps of yours."

Liam decides to put the biceps in question to good use and he shifts Harry up into his arms, bracing Harry's arse on his thighs and humming happily when Harry's long legs wrap around him.

"This is much better," Harry says, his voice deepening as he digs his fingers into Liam's shoulders for balance. "So much better. Less pain for me. You still get your workout. Win-win, if you ask me."

"Harry," Liam mutters. He's got one hand on Harry's arse, fingers splayed over wet skin as he tries to keep them both upright. His other hand is closing around both their dicks, sliding carefully until they're perfectly lined up. Harry's hands are bigger than his and probably more suited to trying to wank them off together but he needs Harry to keep them balanced.

"Shut up?" Harry suggests for him. He can hear the laughter in Harry's voice, threaded with a tiny gasp as Liam's hand tightens around them both. "Liam, have you been watching porn without me?"

"Only for the past ten years," Liam manages to get out as he's suddenly picturing the two of them in bed, watching porn together, Harry sat between his legs as he lazily jerks Harry off. He really needs to add that to the Sexual Bucket list.

"We're doing that," Harry says, echoing Liam's thoughts and making him huff out a laugh even as Harry's body starts to tighten and Liam knows he's about to come. "Fuck, we're doing that tomorrow when we're rich and we've got nothing to do."

"Deal," Liam breathes into Harry's neck. He twists his grip slightly and hears the tell-tale hitch of Harry's breathing.

It's only a few more strokes before Harry comes and Liam lets go, tipping his head back and baring his throat as Harry's come coats their bellies and Harry's mouth finds Liam's neck, biting down painfully hard as he pulses between them. It's enough to trigger Liam's own orgasm and he staggers forward, Harry's legs sliding down until he's standing and holding Liam upright as his whole body shakes and he collapses into Harry's strong arms.

"S'okay," Harry murmurs. "Easy clean up. It's a perk of jerking off in the shower."

Liam laughs softly into Harry's wet, straggly hair. "You look like baby Tarzan, you know."

Harry's offended face makes Liam laugh harder and he shoves Harry's head under the hot spray, still laughing as Harry spits out a mouthful of water and tries to slap at Liam's dick.

It's by far the best shower he's ever had.

*

Zayn hands out their outfits for the evening's activities. Liam holds his up, unsure about how, well, tight they look.

Harry's got his shirt off before Liam can even blink and yeah, the turtlenecks are just as tight as Liam thought they would be.

"Could have left us room to breathe bro," Niall mutters as he pulls at his jumper ineffectively. It still clings to his body like a second skin.

"Less risk of snagging," Zayn says dryly. "Plus you all look hot. You're welcome, by the way."

Harry's hand is drifting over Liam's shoulder and Liam leans into him without really thinking about it. "You look really hot," Harry whispers in his ear, making Liam shiver despite the warm clothes he's wearing. "I can't wait to strip this off you later."

Liam turns his head and kisses Harry, uncaring that the others are there or that he can vaguely hear wolf-whistles and groans. He keeps his hands to himself by sheer force of will but they're both breathless when he pulls back.

"Right, if you two have stopped being disgusting, let's go over the plan once more," Louis says, moving so he's behind Zayn at the monitors. Nick strolls past the screen and Louis' eyes track him for a moment before he drops his hand onto Zayn's shoulder and squeezes. "Then we'll get going. In less than two hours boys, it'll all be over and we'll be rich as fuck."

Harry's hand slips into Liam's and Liam slings his arm around Niall as they crowd around Louis and Zayn and listen as Louis outlines the plan one last time.

*

Niall drives them to the museum in a car they've rented. Louis' been unanimously relegated to the back seat with Harry and Zayn while Liam's up front, quietly distracting Niall when his hand starts tapping on the steering wheel nervously.

The silence is deafening.

Liam pulls his sun visor down and tips it so he can catch Louis' eye in the mirror. He waggles his eyebrows in a silent message that Louis seems to interpret perfectly.

"We should get a victory breakfast when we're done," Louis says loudly into that silence. "Niall, what do you fancy?"

"Full English," Niall says immediately. "With sodabread. And farl."

"Okay, nothing like aiming high," Louis says dryly. "Farl, in Yorkshire? I like your ambition, mate."

"Porridge with bananas and fresh orange juice," Harry says dreamily.

Liam doesn't need to look to know that Louis' pulling a disgusted face at that suggestion. "Harry, you're an odd duck, but okay. Whatever you want."

"Boiled egg soldiers," Liam says, one eye on the road as they near the museum. But Niall's stopped tapping the steering wheel and Harry's leaning forward to wrap his arms around Liam and his seat. Liam closes his hand around Harry's wrist, keeping his grip loose. "My mum makes the best boiled egg soldiers."

"She's probably not going to get up at four in the morning to make us some though," Louis muses.

"You don't know my mum," Liam mumbles. He misses her, more than he probably should at his age. His hand tightens around Harry's wrist imperceptibly. She'd love Harry, he thinks before he shuts that thought firmly down. They're not at the meeting parents stage right now. They're barely at the 'are we dating' stage. Liam's not entirely sure that Harry's not just in this to teach Liam how to be good at sex.

Harry's hand slips to Liam's chest and he wonders for a moment if Harry's reading his thoughts.

"We're here," Louis declares.

They're parked two streets down from the museum in a darkened road; no streetlamps, no residential houses and therefore the lowest risk of being seen. They tumble out of the car as quietly as they can manage and Liam hands everyone their backpacks to strap on. After they've all pulled on their beanies and gloves, they file quietly towards the museum.

"All street cameras are off," Zayn whispers as they climb up the fire escape to the building next door the museum. There's far too much noise for Liam's liking as they file up the metal stairs in their thick-soled boots but he's just grateful they're making good time. He's right at the back while Louis leads and it's barely a minute before they're on top of the building, staring at the half a foot gap between them and the museum.

"All the alarm systems are off," Zayn says, slipping a controller into his jeans pocket. "All security systems are down for the next 30 minutes and the videos are playing a looped pre-recording to cover us."

"No time to waste then," Harry says, and he pulls a circular disk from his backpack. "I'll see you on the other side."

He jumps, barely stretching his legs out, and he lands gracefully on the rooftop of the museum.

They all jump, Liam going last as he makes sure Niall lands safely, Louis and Zayn catching him as his weak knee crumples slightly.

"Alright?" Liam asks, his hand slipping over Niall's back like a whisper.

"Fine," Niall says shortly. He straightens and pulls out his glass cutter. Bending down, he cuts a narrow circular shape from the skylight and leans down to press his disk to the ceiling just inside. "I'll go first then."

Liam watches with his heart in his mouth as Niall swings through the gap and lets his harness and wire carry him down until he lands softly on the ground.

There's a collective sigh of relief when no alarms start screaming.

Louis goes next, followed by Zayn.

"See you on the ground," Harry murmurs before he lunges forward to press a dry, quick kiss to Liam's surprised mouth before he drops through the ceiling.

Liam doesn't take his eyes off Harry until he's on the ground, waving up at Liam. Louis' next to Harry, giving Liam the hurry up signal that makes Liam roll his eyes as he makes quick work of lowering himself and joining them inside.

"Alright, now that Batman's here," Louis says dryly. Liam doesn't even try to cover his giddy grin as Zayn elbows him in the side gently. "Let's get a move on. In and out in thirty minutes, lads. No longer."

They move quickly through the museum in single file, Louis leading the way with Harry behind. Liam trails between Zayn and Niall, who takes up the rear.

"You've got the code, Harry, yeah?" Louis asks as he leads the way through rooms he's memorised over the past few weeks while pretending to not|flirt with Nick. In fact, when Harry had pickpocketed the code from Nick, Louis had been snogging his face off. For the good of the heist, Louis had insisted, his hair dishevelled from Nick's teasing fingers and his shirt buttoned up all wrong.

Harry feels around in his pockets and produces the code, scribbled in Harry's hasty chicken scrawl handwriting before he'd slipped the code back into Nick's pocket. "Ta da!" he announces in a stage whisper.

"I'll take that," Niall says, plucking the slip of paper from Harry's hand. They're almost in the central room where the diamond is on display, and there's one last security code that Zayn hadn't been able to disable remotely, despite his best efforts. Liam easily breaks into the circuit board outside the room before stepping back to let Niall work the code. It takes a few valuable minutes but Niall eventually sits back on his heels and shoots them a cheerful grin. "Done."

"God bless your magic fingers, Nialler," Louis says, clapping a hand onto Niall's shoulder before he helps Niall up. "Now, who wants to go first then?"

Liam shrugs and steps into the room, pausing as he waits to hear the alarms go off. After a few tense seconds, he looks over his shoulder to see Niall wearing a smug grin and then they all spread into the room, circling around the diamond.

"Told you it was a beauty," Louis murmurs reverently.

It's huge. Liam's seen pictures, of course. Louis had prints that he'd shown them all and he's seen it in the papers, celebrating its arrival in town. But the photographs hadn't captured just how beautifully the diamond catches the light through its glass surround, even in the faint strands of moonlight that hit the room. And it's bigger than Liam had pictured it, all sharp corners and sparkling fire.

"It's bigger than my head," Niall mutters. "You didn't mention we'd need a bloody forklift to get it out."

Louis moves then and pats Liam on the back. "Don't exaggerate, Nialler. And old muscle Payne here can do the heavy lifting."

Liam arches an eyebrow at that. They hadn't discussed who would actually physically carry the diamond out of the museum, he'd half-assumed that Louis would.

"Maybe if you'd spent more time in the gym, you'd be able to lift it," Liam points out. Niall stifles a giggle as Louis shoots him a glare.

"He was too busy flirting with Nick," Zayn says.

"Oh and what was your excuse then for not hitting the gym?" Louis counters. He's rocking back and forth on his heels and Liam's learned Louis' signs by now. And heel rocking is a dangerous one.

"Being a lazy git," Niall says cheerfully, slinging an arm around Zayn's shoulders and squeezing. "And it takes one to know one, right? That gym is a fucking torture chamber masquerading as a fitness centre, Payno."

"Perhaps we should focus on the diamond, guys," Liam says, gesturing to the gem in the middle of the room. "We can argue later."

"Liam's right," Zayn murmurs. He points to five different spots around the pedestal where the diamond is displayed. "Don't hit those spots. They're linked to the central alarm. The alarm on the actual casing is disabled, so nothing will go off as long as you don't hit any of those spots, okay?"

Liam's throat goes dry and he shoots Zayn a panicked look.

"You'll be fine," Zayn assures him.

"Nothing like a booby-trapped diamond to get your blood pumping," Niall says. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets and he just looks grateful that it's not him taking the risk.

"Nothing to it, you'll smash it Payno," Louis says. He's rocking on his heels again.

Liam turns to Harry, who's mostly been silent since they walked into the room. "Any words of wisdom?" he asks hopefully.

Harry shrugs. "Just don't mess up," he says.

Liam deflates a little. "Thanks Hazza," he mutters. He hunches his shoulders and stares at the diamond. It's only a couple of feet, he tells himself. A few feet, grab the diamond and then they can get the hell out of here. Home free. Simple.

He takes the first tentative step.

"Hey Liam?" Harry calls softly, making him freeze and turn his head to look at Harry, who's now grinning at him. "If you don't mess up, I'll fuck you later."

There's a series of groans and Niall has Harry in a headlock when Liam remembers to breathe. Harry's going to fuck him, he thinks blindly as Louis gives Harry and Niall a shove that sends them both towards Liam, limbs flailing everywhere.

It's instinct that has Liam stepping back and shifting his weight to stop them barrelling into him. Except he steps back again and bumps into the pedestal

Everything seems to fall in slow motion. Liam feels the sharp pain to his back and he turns mid-fall to grab at the glass casing, stumbling back as he hugs it to his middle and scours the floor in a panic but the alarms don't go off.

He looks up to find the diamond wobbling precariously in its clawed display setting. All Liam can do is watch, wide-eyed as the diamond slowly, slowly, slowly overbalances. He watches in horror as the diamond tumbles and Liam's life flashes before his eyes.

Except Harry's diving in front of him, hands outstretched and Liam wants to laugh because it looks ridiculous except he's still petrified and frozen where he stands. So all he can do is watch as Harry's hands close around the diamond; watch as Harry grimaces with the strain of keeping the diamond off the ground.

Liam's heart is firmly in his throat and he drags in a ragged breath that _hurts_.

"Fuck," Niall whispers into the silence. Liam can barely hear him over the pounding of his heart, threatening to deafen him.

"Good catch mate," Louis murmurs, sounding shaken.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Zayn says.

"Good fucking idea," Niall says. Liam's just about to drop the casing and help Harry to his feet where he's sprawled out on the floor, limbs akimbo when an alarm screams through the silence.

A beat passes where their gazes are all drawn to where Harry's on the ground, his elbow on a sensor.

Liam doesn't even have a split-second to panic before the alarm shuts off and he hears a door opening. He looks up to see Nick hurrying across to them.

"Come on," Nick's saying, giving Liam a shove towards a different door and pulling Harry to his feet. Nick takes the diamond and places it back on the pedestal, grabbing the casing from Liam and putting it carefully in place before he turns to glare at them since no one's moved since Nick arrived. "Come _on_!"

Liam finds himself being pulled through the door and Nick's herded them quickly through to the back of the museum.

"Nick, what the fuck is going on?" he can hear Louis whispering furiously in front of him as they file quickly through each door that Nick leads them through.

"You lot are the worst fucking thieves I've ever met," Nick whispers back. He's got a hand on Louis' elbow and he's all but frog marching Louis, who's almost running to keep up with Nick's long stride. "Seriously, did you just _forget_ that the museum has a security team?"

Liam sees the blank look on Louis' face that quickly turns into a scowl. Liam feels sick inside because they'd all spent so long laughing at Louis and Nick to remember that Nick is an actual _security guard_ who _patrols_ the _museum_. It's not like they'd forgotten him though. They'd watched the security team for hours, studying their every move. They'd timed their attack to the second because usually it was one of the older guards on duty and he'd fall asleep around this time. Nick wasn't meant to be here. Nick's never here at night.

Liam can hear a snigger behind him and he just about manages to not snap at Niall, who also didn't think about the security team, Liam thinks sourly. Zayn's silent, which doesn't surprise Liam at all and Harry's just keeping pace with him, looking torn between amusement and panic.

It's a feeling Liam's familiar with.

They finally reach the back door to the building and Nick flings it open. There's a man standing there, tall and imposing and looking thoroughly annoyed.

Liam's too stunned to react. But he's being pushed to the side as Niall shoots past him and he's jumping at the man who's already leaning down to wrap his arms around Niall and yank him up. Niall's legs are around the stranger's waist and he's kissing him furiously.

"What the fuck is going on?" Louis demands. There's no stamping of feet but Liam's pretty close to snapping himself so he's impressed with Louis' restraint.

"Missed you, Head," Niall's muttering between kisses.

"You're a stupid fucker," the man tells him but he's got his hands on Niall's arse, he's kissing Niall back and he's slowly inching them both back towards a dark minivan. "You're alright?"

"Better now," Niall says and he drops down to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you from going to prison," the man says dryly. "I don't see enough of you as it is. Can't have you being locked up for a few years now, can I?"

Liam realises belatedly that this must be Bressie. Not that he can think of anyone else who'd be kissing Niall but his head is throbbing, he can barely think straight with the rushes of adrenaline that keep coursing through his veins and leaving him feeling drained.

"Nick called me a few days ago," Bressie says as he herds the rest of them into the car. Louis' stubbornly refusing to budge though, his arms crossed over his chest as he glares up at Nick, who's mostly ignoring him. "Said you'd probably need some help."

"You have to get out of here," Nick says quietly. "Go on, Lou. I'll talk to you later."

Louis still doesn't move an inch. "Why are you helping us?"

"As nice as I'm sure your ragtag group of misfits are, I'm helping _you_ ," he says. His hand cups Louis' face and Louis turns into the touch, his body softening just a little. "Don't know why because you're a right pain in the arse. But get out of here while I spin a story for the police and my boss."

"I was using you," Louis insists. His hands have moved to grab Nick's arms, like he's holding him in place. "I was just using you to get the diamond."

"I know," Nick says softly, but he doesn't seem particularly annoyed or upset about it. "Now get going before anyone else sees you. Jesus, you lot are the worst bunch of cat burglars I've ever seen."

Louis rocks up on his heels before he lunges forward and drags Nick down for a kiss that looks as painful as it does desperate. Liam averts his eyes in the car and covers Harry's eyes with his hand too for good measure.

He stays like that until he hears the car door slam. There's just enough time for him to open his eyes and catch sight of a dazed and rumpled-looking Nick before Bressie's got the car moving and they're turning the corner, Nick looking smaller and smaller until they're on the road and heading away from the scene of the crime.

"Not part of the plan then." Liam hears the soft words Zayn says to Louis, who doesn't respond, simply closing his eyes and letting his head rest back against the seat.

Niall directs Bressie to everyone's homes where they're dropped off to change and cover their tracks. "Send a message from home. Use your internet. Call someone who'd be up in the middle of the night. Do anything that means you can be traced back to your home as an alibi, just in case," Bressie tells them.

"Wait, who _are_ you?" Louis asks, still with his eyes closed.

"I've got a bit of experience in this kind of thing," Bressie says quietly.

"He's kind of in the same game, but on a much larger, more successful scale," Niall says, his voice muffled where he's tucked himself into Bressie's shoulder while the car is idle and doesn't bother lifting his head. "He keeps promising to retire and settle down back home but there's always one more score, right Head?"

"Just want to make sure we've got enough to settle down love," Bressie says tiredly, as if they've had this conversation more than once before.

Niall makes a disgruntled noise but he doesn't lift his head. Louis just nods once and slides out of the car, disappearing into the night.

They're meant to be meeting back at the warehouse in the morning, but Liam suspects they'll all be there within the next hour even though it's barely 3am. He shoves his clothes in the back of the closet and steps into the shower, trying to wash away the feeling of failure from his skin.

All for nothing, he thinks wearily as he rests his head against his forearm and leans against the tiles; hot water cascading over his back. All that planning and plotting and he fucked it all up for everyone. He should have kept his balance, or reached for the diamond himself. He shouldn't have let anyone else come near the diamond then none of this would have happened.

Weeks and weeks of plans and strategy just gone, right out of the window.

Liam doesn't know how long he stands there in the shower but he's shivering by the time he climbs out, his water supply running cold while he scrubbed his skin raw. He feels a bit lost and dazed as he tugs on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, pulling a hoodie over his head as the doorbell goes.

Harry's standing there, his car keys twirling around his finger as he's lounging against the doorframe, grinning at Liam.

"Time for a quickie before we head over to the warehouse then?" he asks. Liam thinks Harry's teasing but he's reaching out to grab Harry's shirt and tugging him inside as the ache inside of him grows wider.

Liam kisses him, urgent and fierce as he paws at Harry's clothes. The buttons on Harry's shirt frustrate him and he just rips, pleased when he hears buttons scattering across the floor as Harry's shirt finally opens all the way.

"Hey," Harry mumbles against his lips but it doesn't sound like a protest.

Liam strips Harry's shirt off, his lips never leaving Harry's as he guides him towards the kitchen counter. His hands move quickly over Harry, touching as much warm, beautiful skin as he can before his hands drift lower, cupping Harry's arse and bringing him flush against Liam. He can feel how hard Harry is in his jeans and he grins wolfishly as he grinds their dicks together.

"Liam," Harry groans and his head drops back helplessly. Liam nips at his bared throat before he hefts Harry up onto the counter, driven by the whimper Harry makes. "God you learn quick."

"Up," Liam says, unzipping Harry's jeans and tugging on them. Harry lifts his hips up enough for Liam to tug them down around his ankles and his mouth waters as his gaze zeroes in on Harry's dick, hard and thick in his boxers. For him. Christ, he doesn't think he'll ever get over that.

He sinks to his knees, tugging at Harry until he's on the edge of the counter and he moves slowly forward, licking at Harry's cock through the soft, dark blue cotton. He feels Harry's hand sink into his hair, twisting until he's got a good grip, his other hand cupping Liam's face, his fingers resting gently on Liam's jaw.

Liam peels Harry's boxers down slowly, breaking into a smile as Harry's dick pops free and smacks up against his belly. Liam tucks the boxers down as best he can while his hand wraps around the base of Harry's dick and squeezes carefully. "Quickie, yeah?" Liam murmurs before his tongue flicks out to lick his lips.

Harry whimpers again, his fingers tightening in Liam's hair. "Yeah okay," he says hoarsely, eyes locked on Liam's slick lips.

Liam nuzzles his cheek against Harry's thigh, grinning up at him as he feels something spark inside of him. A feeling. An emotion. Something Liam can't put his finger on but the longer Harry stares at him, his lips parted and his eyes wide, the more relaxed Liam feels.

His hand slides up Harry's dick, his thumb trailing as Harry bites back a moan. Liam feels a bit lightheaded as he reaches up to take Harry's tip into his mouth, his lips closing around Harry and he just breathes in noisily, overwhelmed by Harry's scent and taste. Eyes closed, he jerks Harry into his mouth a few times before he tilts his head back a little so he can look up and see Harry's face. He's slack jawed and he looks a bit dazed, staring down at Liam.

Liam thinks he looks beautiful.

He licks his way down Harry's cock, his tongue lathering the shaft before he sinks his mouth down, taking Harry as deep as he can, trying to relax the muscles around his throat as Harry slides deeper inside. He chokes for a second and it makes his eyes stream. Liam has to shut them to blink the tears away as he bobs back up and he suckles Harry's tip, his hand pumping faster as he feels the tension building inside of Harry. Without thinking, he trails his thumbnail gently up Harry's shaft and he hears Harry's broken cry before Harry comes in his mouth. Liam relaxes his throat again, opening his throat as he massages Harry's dick through his orgasm, come sliding over his tongue before he swallows it all back, the bitter taste thick and salty in his mouth.

While Harry lets go of him to grab the counter and he takes a few minutes to get his breathing back to normal, Liam rests his cheek back against the inside of Harry's thigh, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there every now again as he shifts into a more comfortable position on the floor. His own dick is straining inside his jeans but he ignores it for now as his hands stroke up and down Harry's legs soothingly and he tucks Harry back into his boxers.

"We can tick quickie off your list." Harry's voice sounds wrecked and Liam hides a smile into Harry's thigh. "But only if you get one too."

"We should probably get back to the warehouse," Liam says with a sigh. He climbs to his feet and pulls Harry's jeans up carefully. Harry slides off the counter and wiggles his hips into his jeans, leaving them unzipped as he slides his arms around Liam's shoulders and pulls him in for a kiss. "Or we could stay here a bit longer," Liam mumbles, his hands gripping Harry's hips as he brushes his nose against Harry's.

"Just a bit longer," Harry agrees. His quick fingers are already on Liam's jeans, tugging them down and nudging Liam to step out of them. Liam strips off his hoodie and Harry helps him with his shirt until he's completely naked in his kitchen, breathless and excited and painfully hard. Harry's index finger trails a teasing pattern down Liam's chest that makes Liam's breathing hitch. "Just a quickie, right?" Harry says in a low voice that makes Liam's dick twitch.

"Ye-" the word is stolen out of Liam's mouth as he finds himself being spun around and Harry's hand is on his back, pressing down hard and Liam finds himself spread-eagled, bent over the kitchen table. He blindly reaches for something to balance himself, palms flattening against the table top as Harry bends over him, plastering his chest against Liam's back.

He can hardly breathe as Harry grinds against his arse, pressing soft kisses across his back and Harry's hands wander restlessly over taut muscles.

Harry's knee nudges against his and Liam widens his stance, his arse high and on display. Harry leans back and Liam fights the urge to shyly cover his body from Harry's intent gaze. The longer Harry leaves him there, the more desperate Liam becomes. He needs something. He needs Harry.

Liam can hear something, a rustling, a movement. There's a snap of a bottle opening and more movement before Harry's pressing up against him again.

"M'not gonna fuck you," Harry says hoarsely. "Not right now. Later though, when we've got all the time in the world, when I can spread you out across my bed and open you up so slowly until you're begging me to fuck you."

"Please," Liam begs. He pushes back against Harry, grinding into his crotch, desperate for friction. Desperate to be touched. "Please, _please_ Harry."

"It's gonna be so good, Liam," Harry continues like he hasn't heard Liam's pleas. "You have no idea how good I'm gonna make you feel."

Liam jerks as Harry's hand reaches around him and wraps around his dick. Liam whines low and deep as Harry strokes him slowly, teasing Liam with long, lazy tugs on his dick. Liam's cheek presses harder into the table as he rocks back against Harry, mewling with tiny whimpers as he tries to silently urge Harry to speed up. God he just needs to come.

"Have you ever fingered yourself Liam?" Harry breathes into his ear, pressed over Liam like a blanket. Liam shivers helplessly, shaking his head as he turns, blindly seeking Harry's mouth. It's messy and desperate and Harry's pulling away too soon, leaving Liam aching and wrecked.

"Shhh," Harry murmurs, his hand still working Liam's dick painfully, blissfully slowly. Harry's other hand drops onto his back and traces a slow, wet path down Liam's spine, curving down to brush over the curve of his arse before he slowly presses a lubricated finger against Liam's hole.

Liam hisses, arching into Harry's touch. His body feels like it's on fire and he wants Harry on him, over him, touching every part of him, filling him up until he can't breathe. When Harry finally pushes his finger inside, Liam lets out a sob of relief, grinding back against Harry and silently begging for more.

"Look at you," Harry says almost reverently. He slides his finger back out, almost to the tip before he pushes back inside. Liam groans as he pushes back against Harry, fucking himself back against Harry's finger. "More? Do you want more, Liam?"

"Please," Liam whimpers. When Harry slides a second finger inside, Liam whines as he grips the table harder, each thrust of Harry's fingers pushing him harder against the solid wood.

"You look so good, Liam," Harry murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to Liam's back. "So gorgeous, fucking yourself on my fingers. M'gonna spend hours opening you up later, make you all nice and ready for my dick."

The imagery sends Liam a bit wild and he pushes back harder. "Please Harry, please I need to-"

Harry speeds up his hands, finding a rhythm as he slides his fingers into Liam's arse as he jerks him harder. Liam's legs tremble, barely holding him up as he chases his orgasm, just a whisper away.

"Gonna fuck you so good, love," Harry says softly.

Liam's body goes rigid and he comes into Harry's fist with a cry as Harry strokes him through it. His fingers still in Liam's arse as he comes and Liam babbles nonsense as he falls forward onto the table and Harry follows him down, covering Liam's damp body with his own as Liam rides the last few shivers of his orgasm.

They stay there, locked together as they breathe heavily and Liam never wants to move ever again.

When Harry eventually pulls his fingers out, Liam protests, clenching desperately but Harry just whispers soothing promises to put them back in later, promising to add three fingers and stretching Liam until he can't breathe next time.

Harry presses soft kisses against Liam's back, trailing his lips over clammy skin until Liam feels steady enough to stand up. He lets Harry grab a dishcloth to clean him up and throwing it out when he's done because he can't ever imagine drying his dishes with it ever again. He lets Harry dress him slowly, smiling stupidly when Harry occasionally kisses him as he slides Liam's jeans back on and pulls Liam's hoodie back on. He ruffles Liam's hair, now curling flat against his head. Liam runs his hands through it in annoyance, reaching over for a beanie to hide it before he pulls Harry in, settling him between Liam's spread legs and kissing him slowly.

"Hi," he murmurs when he pulls back, nuzzling his cheek against Harry's smooth skin.

"Hi," Harry echoes in a whisper, cupping Liam's cheek. "Alright?"

"Yeah," he whispers. He's overwhelmed; it's been a hell of a night and it's not over yet, but he's so glad Harry appeared at his door. "Needed it, I think."

"You know how to make a boy feel special, Liam Payne," Harry teases him gently.

"Wanted you," Liam corrects himself easily. The words are interchangeable, he thinks. He needs Harry. He wants Harry.

Harry's hand ghosts down over Liam's arse. "Thank you. For letting me be first."

"You're welcome?" Liam's not sure what the etiquette is for such occasions. Harry grins though so and squeezes his arse. "We should probably get going."

Harry sighs loudly but he lets go of Liam and steps back, letting Liam move away to grab his wallet and keys. He disappears into his bedroom and emerges with a dark jumper, woollen weaved, for Harry to wear since Liam destroyed his shirt. When Harry's tugged it over his head, completely messing up his already-wrecked hair, Liam has an urge to purr in delight at Harry wearing his clothes.

"Yeah?" Harry murmurs, cleared pleased at the way Liam's gaze is fixated on the way the jumper pulls tightly over his chest. "I promise you can take it off me later."

Liam grabs him for a quick kiss and nuzzle before he reluctantly lets Harry go, inordinately delighted when Harry stumbles before he finds his balance and shoots Liam a flustered grin that makes Liam want to drag him back to bed.

But the other lads are expecting them so he settles for a hand on Harry's shoulder before they head down to the car.

Harry drives them to the warehouse, humming quietly while Liam stares out of the window. Liam can hardly believe he drove Harry to finger him over his kitchen table. Every time he shifts, he feels the stretch in his arse and it's a constant reminder that Liam's enjoying probably far too much.

Liam moves deliberately in his seat and hides his grin behind his hand.

Harry parks next to Liam's car. They're the last ones to arrive by the looks of it and they head inside to find everyone standing around, looking a bit miserable and uncomfortable. Niall's got his arm around Bressie's waist and he's the only one who looks cheerful. Zayn's frowning into his cup of coffee and Louis' staring at his phone like he's waiting for it to ring or vibrate with a text.

Liam moves towards the pot of coffee and pours two mugs, handing one to Harry who beams at him.

"Well we fucked that up then," Niall says, breaking the silence. "Guess it's a good thing Nick called you, Head, otherwise we'd have been more screwed."

"So you and Nick know each other then?" Zayn asks. He's turned towards Bressie, still frowning. He reaches out to grab Louis' phone from him, startling Louis who splutters for a moment and scrambles to get his phone back. Zayn just tucks it into his back pocket and Louis crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Zayn. Zayn ignores him and focuses back on Bressie.

"We've known each other for a few years," Bressie says. Liam doesn't know him all that well but he thinks Bressie sounds a bit cagey, like he's choosing his words carefully. "Being in the same kind of business. Louis mentioned to Grimmy that Niall had a boyfriend called Bressie and Grimmy figured out he meant me."

"Christ, did you and Nick share your entire life stories or something?" Niall asks Louis.

Louis' mouth tightens but he keeps quiet.

"Grimmy was uh, a bit concerned about you guys and thought you might need a hand," Bressie says carefully.

"Bet he didn't put it that politely," Louis mutters.

"Well, we did need the help," Harry points out. His hand settles on Liam's hip, his thumb hooked into Liam's pocket as he rests his chin on Liam's shoulder. Liam relaxes back into him. "Reckon Nick did us a favour."

"Yeah but we left without the diamond." Liam distracts himself from the overwhelming feeling of failure by stroking his callused thumb over Harry's soft hand. "I messed up."

"Fuck that," Zayn mutters. "You didn't mess up, Liam. I should have been able to disable those sensors."

"I'm the one who fell," Harry says with a shrug. But Liam can feel the tension in Harry's body where it's pressed up against his back.

"And I'm the one who put Harry in a headlock," Niall points out.

"And I'm the one who shoved them so I guess we all failed," Louis says.

Somehow that makes Liam feel a little better.

"Hi, um, sorry to interrupt your little Cat Burglar Anonymous meeting."

They all turn in unison to find Nick standing by the door, half inside and half outside like he's not sure he's meant to be there. Or maybe he's not sure of his welcome. And maybe he's right to be hesitant because Louis doesn't say anything. Liam glances over at him but Louis' expression is blank, which is probably a worrying sign for someone who expresses every emotion they feel as physically as Louis does.

"Told the security team that I stepped on a sensor by accident," Nick says. "One of the guys accidentally wiped the pre-recorded footage too. Clumsy, Ed is. Dunno why I keep him around, really."

"Thanks Nick," Harry says when no one else speaks. "You totally saved our arses."

"Yeah well, I didn't do much," Nick says, waving his hand about awkwardly. He hasn't taken his eyes off Louis the whole time, but he's also not moved completely into the warehouse.

"Did you know the whole time?" Louis asks finally. His voice is flat and he's got his hands shoved into his jogger pockets.

Nick shrugs, which Liam assumes is a yes.

"Were you playing me then?" Louis asks, quieter this time.

Nick sighs and his gaze finally flickers away from Louis, towards Bressie. Only for a moment though before he's back to staring at Louis. "I used to do this, you know," he says eventually. He lifts his hand to wave in the vague direction of their equipment. "Had a lovely life of crime for a few years. It's how I met Brez. We teamed up a few times before I went straight. My mum, she knew what I was doing and she begged me to stop before I ended up in jail and embarrassed her in front of all her friends. She'd never live it down, she swore, not in town or at social functions." Nick pauses and runs his fingers through his messy hair. "So I figured why not use all that knowledge I had and go into security, work on the other side of the fence or summat. Mum was dead proud, last Christmas. Made me a lemon drizzle cake and everything. And yeah, I saw you coming a mile off," Nick blurts out awkwardly.

"Not really answering the question there mate," Niall murmurs.

"I played you as much as you played me," Nick concedes. "So I guess it's up to you. How much of it was a game, Lou? And how much of it was real?"

"None of it," Louis says.

Nick jerks back, clearly surprised. Liam wants to grab Louis and shake him. He curls his hand around Harry's wrist instead and squeezes tight.

"Right," Nick says gruffly. "Well, I wish I could say the same. Good luck, Louis."

"Lou!" Harry hisses at him, over Liam's shoulder.

"None of it was a game," Louis says, barely audible. But Nick hears him, somehow, and takes a step forward, the door slamming shut loudly behind him. "It was meant to be though. You should know that it was meant to be a game. I was totally going to play you."

"I know," Nick says. He's grinning now and Liam breathes a sigh of relief. And let's go of Harry's wrist before he breaks any bones. "You messed up."

"I messed up a lot," Louis allows. He's rocking on his heels. "We all messed up though. I wasn't the only one."

"You like me," Nick says smugly. He's moving slowly towards Louis, who's watching him warily but there's a smile playing on his lips.

"You're not awful," Louis admits as Nick comes to a stop in front of him. Liam doesn't see who moves first but they're kissing and Liam ducks his head, turning to nuzzle into Harry's neck so he doesn't have to watch Louis trying to climb Nick like a tree while Nick kisses him.

"So no one has the diamond then," Niall says when Louis finally lets go of Nick and lets Nick cuddle him into his side.

"Oh no, it got stolen," Nick says breezily.

Everyone stops and turns to stare at him, including Louis. "What?"

"In the chaos of covering up your dumbass crime, someone else came in and stole the diamond," Nick says. "Pretty smart, actually. Especially since Ed wiped the footage so you wouldn't get caught, and wound up helping the real thieves by accident."

"Outwitted," Zayn mutters. He's got his phone out and he's swiping furiously. "Almost like someone knew we'd mess up. They planned it. I'm going to kill her."

"Kill who?" Niall asks.

"Perrie?" Zayn says into his phone. "Don't suppose you stole a diamond tonight did you babe? Oh you did. Right. No, all's fair, we agreed. No, it's fine babe. Yeah. I'm with the boys. I'll be home later, yeah? Okay. Love you too." He hangs up the phone and shakes his head. Then he starts laughing.

"Perrie stole the diamond?" Louis looks incredulous. "Your _girlfriend_ stole the diamond from right under us?"

"Yeah," Zayn says as he sobers up a little, but he's still grinning. "She's fucking incredible. The girls nicked it fair and square. I should have known, really. She's been out of town for a few weeks, probably tracking it. She only got back last night."

"You guys are the _worst_ thieves," Bressie mutters. Niall turns to glare at him but Bressie just shrugs. "What? You are."

"Maybe not the worst though," Louis says thoughtfully. He's got a hand buried in Nick's jumper, idly pulling on it and forcing Nick to hunch down a little. Nick's not exactly complaining.

"What did you do?" Liam asks warily because Louis looks far too pleased with himself.

"Might have stolen a few choice bits from the museum when no one was looking," Louis says brightly. "Not even their oh so wonderful head of security because he was too busy staring at my bum."

"It's a nice bum," Nick mutters, only looking a tiny bit embarrassed. He gives Louis' bum a quick squeeze like he's reassuring himself that Louis' bum is a worthy distraction and clearly decides that it is, since he leaves his hand resting on the curve of Louis' arse.

Louis still looks really, _really_ smug.

"Did you steal jewellery too?" Nick asks. He looks like he's having a eureka moment and Liam reckons that they're not the only ones feeling a bit foolish tonight. "We had some reports of stolen watches and rings and bracelets from patrons."

"Uh, that might have been me," Niall says sheepishly. Bressie's fighting a smile and Liam's sure they'd totally be high-fiving each other if no one else was in the room. "Thought it was a good idea to have a back-up plan, you know?"

"Very smart," Bressie murmurs. Niall beams up at him. They're bloody adorable.

"If we're confessing stuff," Harry says quietly, "then I might have picked a few pockets while I was waiting around for Lou."

"Picked some pockets?" Louis repeats, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Some wealthy pockets," Harry says with a grin. His hand slides a bit further into Liam's pocket and Liam can feel the warmth of his touch through the cotton material. "People keep all sorts of things in their pockets, you know. Like antique pocket watches. Worth a few pennies, that."

"A few pennies?" Liam asks out of the corner of his mouth.

Harry leans in and turns so that his lips are ghosting against Liam's ear, making him shiver. "Enough that I probably don't have to pick any more pockets for a while."

Liam turns his head, smiling as he softly brushes his lips over Harry's. "Yeah?"

Harry just rolls his eyes and nips at Liam's ear, making him giggle quietly.

"And I guess I'll be a kept man," Zayn says. "Should probably propose or something so I can be a proper house-husband."

"Living the dream, mate," Niall says. "Perrie sounds like a keeper. You're going to introduce us all, yeah?"

"Yeah, definitely," Zayn says.

It's the first time any of them have made any indication of staying in touch. Liam draws in a shaky breath and he can't seem to stop smiling stupidly wide.

"I didn't steal anything," he murmurs. "I just didn't really think about it."

"You've been out of the game too long, Payno," Louis tells him gently. "Nothing to be ashamed of. You're a law-abiding citizen and all that. You don't think like a thief anymore. You're a respectable member of the community."

"Yeah, you're a business owner with like, responsibilities and employees and stuff," Niall adds. "You probably even pay tax."

Liam does, in fact, pay tax. He hates filing his taxes and he pays a huge sum of money to a lovely woman who does it all for him. It's worth every penny.

"I think it's sexy," Harry declares loudly.

Liam disagrees. He knows for a fact that being a business owner and paying his taxes is decidedly _un_ sexy.

"I like a man who's settled and steady and responsible and is a pillar of the community," Harry continues. He might be pressing his crotch into Liam's arse and it's totally inappropriate but Liam's starting to rethink his conviction about taxes being unsexy because Harry is definitely stirring against him. "It's very, uh, appealing."

"You're so fucking weird," Niall says.

"Been thinking I might get myself some roots," Harry says, ignoring Niall. "The owners of that coffee shop down the road from your gym are thinking about selling. I reckon that could be a good investment."

Liam feels like he might burst. "Yeah?" he asks hopefully. He knows better than to get his hopes up, really he does. But something about this, about Harry's hands warm and firm on his body, wrapped around him while the rest of the boys make plans like they're all mates, feels so stupidly right. He wants this so badly he can taste it in his mouth and breathe it into his lungs.

"Yeah," Harry says cheerfully. "Reckon I'd look cute in a little apron. And I'm great at baking. I could bake all my own cakes and stuff."

"Reckon you've got a gift there that money can't buy Payno," Niall says. When Liam tears his gaze away from Harry, it's to find Niall grinning at him.

It's cheesy as hell and there's always the risk that he and Harry won't work out, that Harry could get bored of him or Harry decides that roots aren't for him after all. Nick and Louis could drive each other crazy and destroy each other so easily. Bressie and Niall could drift apart with distance and instability. Zayn and Perrie could combust if they keep competing for the same prizes and outwitting each other.

But right now, he's happy. Zayn and Louis are making plans to go on a roadtrip that includes visiting a fence Louis knows and Niall's asking Harry if he needs a tea boy in the coffee shop that Harry doesn't even own yet, while Louis' arguing that Niall's terrible at tea and will probably eat all the food before the customers.

And tonight, Harry's taking him home and he's maybe going to fuck him for the first time. Liam's torn between wanting to stay and make more plans, or convincing Harry to leave so they can spend the next few hours in bed and Harry can teach him a few more new things.

"Alright?" Harry murmurs quietly so only Liam can hear him. Zayn's currently chatting to Bressie and Niall about investment properties in the area and Nick and Louis are being adorably disgusting, whispering to each other between kisses.

"Yeah," Liam says, and for the first time, maybe ever, it's a completely honest answer to the half-framed question. "Yeah, I'm good. Really good."

"You wanna get out of here?" Harry asks, his voice turning husky and Liam turns, pulling Harry into his arms and crowding into his space.

"Yeah, I do," Liam admits because he doesn't need to stay. The boys will still be here in a few hours. They'll be here in a few days. And if they're not physically in the warehouse, then they're a text or a call away and Liam's not worried about them disappearing on him. "Let's sneak out."

Harry's hand slips into his and he leads the way out of the warehouse. The sun is just coming up and the air is cold and crisp. Hearty, as his dad would say.

"Ready?" Harry asks. He's got his car keys in his other hand and he's watching Liam with a slow smile playing on his lips and a playful look in his eyes.

"Yeah," Liam says, exhaling slowly. "Yeah, I am."


End file.
